


It Runs in the Family

by the_space_ace



Series: King and Lionheart [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, technodad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_space_ace/pseuds/the_space_ace
Summary: Techno had seen death. He had lost people and he'd taken lives; he was intimately aware of what death is and what it leaves in its wake. He was the Blood God, a feared and respected man. His name was enough to bring some of the most powerful to their knees.So why was a small child with wide eyes able to make him throw that all away?
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Eret, Dave | Technoblade & Jschlatt, Dave | Technoblade & Karl Jacobs, Dave | Technoblade & Niki | Nihachu, Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Eret & Karl Jacobs, Eret & Niki | Nihachu, Eret & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Minx | JustAMinx (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Karl Jacobs & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Niki | Nihachu & Karl Jacobs, Niki | Nihachu & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: King and Lionheart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063421
Comments: 154
Kudos: 910





	1. Worst Case Scenario

Techno was panicking, for the first time in a while. He didn’t know what to do. First aid wasn’t something he was never really good at.

“Techno, I need you to listen to me.” For a nearly dead man, Schlatt’s voice was steady and drenched in his usual confidence. Techno’d be impressed if he wasn’t so close to losing one of his closest friends. “When I’m gone, I need you to-”

“You’re not gonna die,” Techno said, hoping that if he said it it was bound to be true. “I’m not gonna let you die. You’ve got so much to do, you can’t leave me.”

Schlatt laughed. It sounded so fake, so hollow. It was an attempt to cheer Techno up. Techno would punch him if Schlatt wasn’t bleeding from the worst fucking stab wound he’d ever seen in his life.

“Please, Schlatt, we can get you to a village and you can take a healing potion. You’re going to be _fine_ , ok? You can see your son again and I-I’ll stop by every weekend, just like always.” Techno knew how desperate he sounded; he could hear his own heart breaking as he spoke. Why couldn’t he just let go?

The hands pressing at Schlatt’s wound were removed delicately, Schlatt taking Techno’s bloodied hands into his own. It was an action that Techno associated with late nights and tears and warmth and comfort and home. It didn’t feel right when all Techno could feel was cold. Schlatt’s hold on his hands was so weak, lacking its usual steadiness. It made the reality feel that much more real.

Techno felt like a child again: scared and worried and so unsure. This time, Schlatt won’t be there to find him, to take him in and make him feel safe after being in danger for so long. He’d be on his own for the first time in years; he couldn’t handle that.

“I’m proud of you, so very proud and-”

“Schlatt, please, you can’t-”

“It’d make me a happy man if I knew you’d be the one looking after my dear Tubbo when I’m gone. I think you two will get along.” Schlatt’s hands were running through Techno’s hair, the motions as familiar to him as breathing. “Tubbo’s gonna grow up to be spectacular, y’know. I think he’ll change the world. Hell, with you looking after him? Might as well rule it, too. Just-just don’t leave him alone, he doesn’t deserve it.”

Techno was crying now, unable to hold back his tears. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I know.” Schlatt’s smile was so loving, so fucking caring.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, kid.”

And when all Techno could do was sob into Schlatt’s shoulder as blood stained his clothes, Schlatt asked him a question. A simple one that made Techno break into smaller pieces. “Anything else you wanna say?”

Techno said anything he could think of, talking to Schlatt through his sobs. He made sure Schlatt knew he was the closest thing to a father, a family, that Techno ever had. He thanked him over and over again for everything Schlatt’s done for him, even when Schlatt’s breathing came to a stop. He brought up his most significant memories with Schlatt, stopping when he felt Schlatt’s pulse finally stop.

Minutes (Hell, maybe even hours) passed as Techno held onto Schlatt’s corpse and sobbed. With tears in his eyes and an empty heart, Techno carried Schlatt’s body to the house that Schlatt had built a year before. He did his best to give Schlatt a proper burial, making a casket and digging the grave and carving a messy headstone.

It hurt to bury the one man he cherished.

Techno spent too long sitting by Schlatt’s grave, hoping that this was all some sick dream that he’d wake up from. What he’d give to wake up now, to jolt upright and be in his bed instead of sitting in the dirt and grass.

He felt unsteady on his feet as he made his way inside Schlatt’s home (it was more like a cabin than a house, but Techno really didn’t care about the specifics). It was just as Techno remembered it except for the fact that it was lacking the usual warmth that typically made the place so appealing. It felt empty now, even though it was still full of useless junk Schlatt liked to collect. It was as if the home lost all its charm and all of its life when Schlatt died. The thought made Techno sick to his stomach.

There was one room that Techno was hesitating to enter, all of his nerves and fears stopping him from even approaching the door. Beyond that door was Tubbo, only nine months old. Techno never feared being around the child, knowing that if anything went wrong Schlatt would take care of it. But now he was on his own. He didn’t know shit about raising kids; how would he be able to support himself and a baby?

Maybe Techno could leave Tubbo at an orphanage, one that would take care of him and find him a proper home. That way Tubbo would have two loving parents who’d make sure he grew up to be what Schlatt wanted him to be. 

That was that, Techno decided he would leave Tubbo in the hands of people who knew what they were doing.

With that thought in mind it was much easier to open that door.

Pushing open that door revealed Tubbo sleeping peacefully in his crib, no idea of what fate befell his father. He was so, so small. As Techno approached the crib, he noticed just how fragile Tubbo looked. The kid was born prematurely and, at least to Techno, it showed. When Techno picked him up (hoping and praying that Tubbo wouldn’t wake up), he was more than a little shocked at just how little he weighed.

Techno looked at the child in his arms, really looked at him. He certainly looked like Schlatt’s kid; Tubbo’s hair was practically the exact same shade as Schlatt’s and he definitely had the same ram ears as Schlatt did. Holding Tubbo was an entirely different experience than when Techno did the same only a week before. Now, it felt as if his world was shifting to accommodate for this tiny bit of life. He tucked a small strand of hair behind Tubbo’s ear, knowing that he couldn’t leave Tubbo to an orphanage; his heart would probably shatter at losing the last connection he had to Schlatt (at least that’s the reason he was going with for now).

“It’s going to be just you and me against the world, Tubbo,” Techno said softly, putting more emotion into that sentence than nearly any other he’s said before. It was a promise, of sorts; a promise to his-holy fuck-to his son. Was he-

Was he a dad now?

The specifics didn’t matter.

“I’m going to protect you from now on, got it? We’ve gotta make sure you take over the world one day, for Schlatt.”


	2. A Place to Call Home

The town was nice, to say the very least. It was a decent size and far enough from the capital that if anything bad were to happen there, the town would be left untouched. It’d be a good place for Tubbo to grow up, Techno thought. The people seemed nice enough and the land around the area was pretty good for farming. He could make a peaceful life here for himself and Tubbo, maybe start up a small farm and make money that way.

“What do you think, Tubbo?”

Tubbo looked at Techno, briefly forgetting about the toys in his hands. He turned four a few months ago and, as Techno looked at his son’s blue eyes, it felt like those years flew by. Tubbo was able to walk now. It was an ability he used to the fullest, taking every chance he could to run off and explore. Tubbo was talking more now as well; he’d tell Techno anything that came into that brilliant brain of his, often forgetting to even take a breath.

“What?”

Techno smiled. “What do you think about us having a farm?”

“With cows?”

“I could find us a cow.”

“Sheeps?”

“We can have sheep.”

Tubbo paused, looking deep in thought.

That was another thing about him: he couldn’t hide anything that went on in his head. If he was happy, it would show as clear as day. If he was upset, Techno would know immediately by the slight downturn of his lips and the clouded look in his eyes. If he was ever disappointed, one look at his eyes would give it away (no matter how much effort he put in to make Techno believe he wasn’t affected).

“What about pigs?” Tubbo giggled while saying it. His giggles turned into full on laughter at Techno’s faux horror-filled expression.

“Tubbo! How could you!” He added a gasp, for dramatic purposes of course. “My own son has betrayed me!”

And Tubbo laughed like it was the absolute funniest thing in the world. It was amazing to see him so happy. Techno knew Tubbo wasn’t the biggest fan of all the moving around they had to do, always pretending to go along with it for Techno’s sake. It hurt Techno just as much as it hurt Tubbo whenever they had to pack up their belongings and find a new place to stay, but for completely different reasons. While Tubbo hated the instability, Techno hated the way Tubbo’s smile would instantly fall. When he told Tubbo he wanted to finally stop moving, to live in this nice little town, Tubbo’s smile was so bright and so happy.

“We don’t need a pig,” Tubbo said when he finally calmed down, a smile still fixed on his small face, “I already have you.”

Gods, Techno was sure he would’ve cried right then if he hadn’t just been giggling along with his son. 

“And I have you.”

“I’m not a pig, dad.”

“Fine, then. An honorary pig.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, uh, you’re a pig in spirit.”

“What’s that mean?”

This was Techno’s least favorite game: explaining words to Tubbo. It often slipped Techno’s mind that Tubbo, at the end of the day, was just a child and that he didn’t have the same lexicon as Techno did. He’d use words that Tubbo had never heard before, never thinking twice about it until Tubbo himself asked about it.

“It means that even though your not actually a pig like me, you are in your heart?”

That definition was apparently good enough for Tubbo.

“Are we going to plant food?”

“I’d hope so.”

“Dad.”

“Yes, Tubbo?”

“We’re gonna have the best plants.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Tubbo’s toys were completely forgotten as he got lost in fantasies and ideas of their hypothetical farm, telling Techno about each and every one in incredible detail. It always amazed Techno whenever Tubbo would lose himself in his mind and this time was no different. Tubbo had no limit to his creativity, constantly bringing up solutions or concepts that had never once crossed Techno’s mind. 

There was a future in Tubbo’s eyes, one that Techno would do anything to secure.

=+=

The land Techno bought was just enough for him and Tubbo. It came with a barn and a one story house (both of which had obviously seen better days). There was a lot of work to do, most of which he’d done on his own. Tubbo could only do so much before getting tired or bored. Eventually, after weeks of effort, Techno was out in the fields planting potatoes, radishes, and green beans with Tubbo.

Tubbo was ecstatic, excitedly talking to and naming every single seed he planted and watered. He was slow with it, but Techno didn’t care; Tubbo was having fun. It was good to finally do things together again. Having to work on the house and barn had taken up much of Techno’s time, leaving Tubbo to himself for far too long.

It was difficult finding someone who was willing to watch after Tubbo. Techno did end up finding someone, though. Her name was Niki and she owned a shop in the middle of town. She seemed trustworthy and she got along well with Tubbo. When Techno would start working on weeding the fields or fixing up the broken roof of the barn, Tubbo would walk himself to Niki’s shop and spend the day there. It took a lot out of Techno to allow Tubbo to leave and return home on his own, especially at such a young age, but Niki repeatedly assured him that the town was safe and that no harm would come to Tubbo. So far, her words had proved to be true.

Planting the seeds nearly took all day and when the two finally went inside, Tubbo looked as if he still had hours of energy. There was dirt under his nails and his hair was a mess, but he was still smiling as bright as the sun and talking as if he hadn’t been doing that all day. Techno wasn’t too sure why Tubbo seemed so happy after spending all day out in the sun. He wasn’t going to complain about it though, that’s for sure.

“We have the plants done, right Dad?”

“Yup,” Techno replied as he began to prepare dinner for the two of them, throwing coal into the smoker and waiting for it to heat up.

“So are you going to get a cow next?”

“I don’t think people usually have cows for sale.”

The bright look in Tubbo’s eyes seemed to dim, just a little bit. “Really?”

“I could ask around, see if anyone’s willing to part with a cow or two.”

“If you find one, can I name it?”

“Of course.”

The rest of the night passed by peacefully and for once in his life, Techno was excited for what was to come (it helped to know that Tubbo was just as, maybe even more, excited as he was).

=+=

“Do you think butterflies have dreams?”

The weather was perfect that day, barely a cloud in the sky as the sun shone on the earth. Techno and Tubbo spent most of the day at the town’s farmer’s market, selling all the food that they didn’t need. They ended up selling out. Tubbo was incredibly happy about that, telling Niki about it while Techno packed up.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Not sure.”

“I think they dream. They probably dream of nectar or when they were a worm. That’s what I would dream of, if I was a butterfly.”

Tubbo seemed to come home everyday with some new piece of information. It never failed to make Techno insanely proud. Hell, just the other day Tubbo had ran home all excited to tell Techno that Niki was teaching him how to read and write. Techno’d never been more proud than when Tubbo did his best to show him what he had learned. Techno knew nothing about how fast children were supposed to develop, but he knew that his Tubbo was doing wonderfully.

“I don’t think you can control what you dream about, Tubbo.”

“Butterflies can.”

“They can?”

“Well, I think they can.”

Techno did eventually get a cow, two of them actually. They both belonged to an old couple that didn’t live too far. It was easy to get them to sell the cows, especially when Techno mentioned that he had a son that really wanted to care for a cow (was that wrong? Maybe. Probably. Look, it didn’t matter. Techno was able to get the cows). Tubbo named both of the cows the second he saw them. One was named Daisy, the other Buttercup.

Tubbo spent a lot of time tending to the cows. He’d feed them, wash them, brush them, and do just about anything to make sure they were in good health. It was sweet just how much Tubbo cared about the two of them. He talked to them about his day and asked them questions about theirs, knowing he wouldn’t get an actual answer.

“What’s got you thinking about butterflies?”

“I saw one this morning, it was sitting on your mask.”

Techno felt himself freeze, mind going blank at the mention of a mask. He was sure he’d hidden it away in his room; it was stuffed into a box full of things he’d never need again. There was absolutely no way Tubbo could’ve found it.

“What mask?”

“The white one with the little horns on the mouth.”

“And where was this mask?”

Tubbo seemed to have felt the shift in Techno’s tone and demeanor, looking as if he was beginning to grow worried. He was looking at Techno like he’d look at a particularly difficult word. It made Techno calm down, just for Tubbo’s sake.

“In front of the door, but I-I brought it in.”

Techno sighed, pushing his worry and fear to the back of his mind for now. He was supposed to be having a nice afternoon with his son. He didn’t have the fucking time or patience to wonder why that thing of the past was on their door step. “It’s fine, Tubbo, you’re not in trouble.”

“You looked-”

“I know and I’m sorry, I was just thinking too much.”

“You can think too much?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

And just like that, the issue of the mask was forgotten until that evening.

The mask was sitting at the dining table, as cold and scarred as Techno remembered it. He wanted to break that stupid piece of bone, to make sure he never had to lay his eyes on it again. It still reminded him of cries and of pleas and of bloodshed. The mask represented the man he was, the life he gave up when Schlatt died. It’d be best to get rid of it completely.

It ended up sitting at the bottom of a box once again.


	3. Laughter Lines

The stains wouldn’t come out of the shirt, no matter how hard he scrubbed. It was making Techno’s frustration grow. The hit hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to and now he had to buy a new fucking shirt. He needed to invest in better clothes, ones that wouldn’t stain as easily.

“I think you should leave the blood,” Schlatt said, grinning at the insult Techno shot at him immediately after, “Makes you even more menacing. You walk around with a boar skull on your face, a blood stained shirt isn’t as morbid.”

“I like to look clean,” Techno muttered, throwing the shirt into the trash can. Maybe he needed to stop dressing up for bigger hits; he couldn’t keep spending so much of his earnings just to replenish his ruined wardrobe. That money could be used for so many other, better things. He could dress in all black, it’d absolutely destroy his aesthetic but at least blood stains wouldn’t be as obvious.

Schlatt watched Techno with barely concealed worry, something that Techno wished he’d stop doing. It never failed to make him feel guilty. He knew Schlatt cared, that he just wanted what was best for Techno, but seeing him after a hit (especially the bloody ones) made it hard to even look the man in the eyes. Techno felt like a disappointment.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not since this morning. I spent all day traveling.”

“Then let’s get some dinner, I’ll pay.”

“Schlatt, you don’t have to.”

“I do, actually.”

“If you say so.”

At Techno’s implied agreement, Schlatt left to busy himself while Techno finished cleaning up. This was the third time in the past two weeks that Schlatt offered to get Techno dinner and Techno was certainly curious about why he kept doing this. Was it to distract him? Or was it just to get him out of the house?

It didn’t matter, he didn’t care.

Schlatt didn’t try to start any conversations that night, only talking if Techno was interested in talking. It was strange. Schlatt was rarely silent, always feeling the need to say something. He was always willing to carry a conversation on his own. That night was different and Techno wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“Why are you so quiet?” Techno asked. He was nearly done with his meal by the time he gained the courage to actually ask the question. It took too much mental preparation and even then he was still overcome with nerves.

“I don’t feel like talking tonight,” Schlatt answered, “Both of us could use a quiet night.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer for Techno. There had to have been more to Schlatt’s uncharacteristic silence, right? “I guess so.”

Schlatt looked at him, something knowing in those inhuman eyes. It made Techno feel like he was being interrogated even though no questions had been asked. He wanted Schlatt to look away, to focus on anything else that wasn’t Techno. “You shouldn’t take as many jobs as you do.”

“What?”

“You get paid well enough, you shouldn’t have to travel to Gods know where multiple times a week. It’s clearly taking a toll on you. You haven’t looked this exhausted in years.”  
Schlatt did have a point. Techno hadn’t been able to get much sleep recently with just how far he’d been traveling recently and even when he had the time to get some rest, his mind wouldn’t let him. It was the mix of fear and guilt that kept him awake on most nights. He was only ever able to get rest when he spent the night in his room at Schlatt’s.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“Then you can get a hobby. Something relaxing that you can work on when you aren’t out killing people.”

“I’m not good at many things, Schlatt.”

“You don’t need to be good at a hobby, kid. It’s for fun, not for money.”

“I can’t just suddenly stop taking jobs, that’d be-”

“Crazy, I know. I’m not asking you to quit your job, I’m just asking you to slow down. Seeing you wear yourself thin for people who don’t give a shit about your well-being makes me worry. You’re always doing so much. It wouldn’t kill you to care about yourself for once.”

“I really don’t think I can.”

“Just consider it, okay?”

“Sure.”

Techno spent two weeks thinking about it before finally deciding that Schlatt may have had a point.

It made Schlatt happy, Techno was sure of it. When he caught on, the house felt much more lively. Schlatt would make home cooked meals whenever he had the time. Nearly every morning and evening Techno was sitting at the dining table with Schlatt right across from him. It was weird to see Schlatt in the kitchen, moving around like it was second nature. The last time Techno could remember when Schlatt acted this way was when he had first met the man. 

Techno tried his best to find a hobby like Schlatt advised and it was just as hard as he expected it to be. He cycled through so many different hobbies, ignoring Schlatt’s laughter every time it resulted in a failure. Gardening was what Techno ended up settling with. It was time consuming enough to keep him busy and it was enjoyable enough.

“When’s the next harvest?”

“Please stop calling it a harvest, there’s only like five plants out there.”

“Oh, no need to be so bitter.”

“I’m never talking to you again.”

“Why don’t you go tend to your crops and calm down, my little farmer boy.”

“I wish I was deaf.”

The days felt brighter and more vibrant when he was at home. Taking less jobs had a positive effect on Techno’s mental and physical health, just like Schlatt said it would. Techno would never tell that to Schlatt (he’d never hear the end of it), but he had a feeling that he already knew. It showed in the proud smiles he’d receive, in the tight and calming hugs, in the reassuring touches to his shoulder.

A few months after Techno had begun to adjust to this new normal, Schlatt came home one day with a look on his face that Techno hadn’t seen before. There was extra energy to every step he took. He looked unfocused and dazed, a smile on his face that he failed to hide. Techno couldn’t help but be curious.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Schlatt seemed to finally notice Techno, immediately composing himself. Did he- Was Schlatt _embarrassed_? Oh, this was monumental. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Did anything interesting happen?”

“I met someone.”

Techno wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to emotions, but he had a hunch he knew where this conversation would end up. Never in his life did Techno expect to witness Schlatt _fall in love_. What a concept. “Who are they?”

“Her name’s Minx.”

Minx. Why was that name familiar?

“She moved in not that long ago, started working under the mayor a few days ago. Gods, Techno, she’s so fucking-she’s so dumb. Loud, too. Wouldn’t shut up.” From the way Schlatt was talking, those sounded like good things. That smile from before was back and Techno would’ve made fun of Schlatt if he wasn’t trying so hard to figure out why Minx’s name was so familiar. It’s not like Techno went out much, there’s no way he could’ve met her. Maybe he’d heard her name in passing. It definitely seemed like the more probable answer. The only time he ever spoke to people was when he needed-

Wait.

Oh fuck.

“I think she asked me to, like, kill her uncle not that long ago.”

“ _What_?”

“You heard nothing, continue talking about this woman that you’ve fallen in love with.”

“I haven’t fallen in love.”

“Your lie is very obvious.”

“Can we address the very important piece of information you just told me?”

Schlatt didn’t seem angry or upset about it, which Techno supposed was a good sign. He definitely wasn’t enthusiastic about it. He just looked confused and surprised. It would be much more helpful if Techno knew exactly what Schlatt was thinking.

“Is it gonna affect how whipped you are?”

“Well, I’m not whipped, so no.”

“Eh, she’ll tell you at some point if things work out between you two.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Blame yourself, you raised me.”

It was silent for a while and Techno assumed Schlatt had gone off to do something else, but no. He was still standing where he had been, looking down at his feet in deep thought. “I think I’m gonna ask her to dinner tomorrow.”

“Make sure to not be an asshole about it.”

“Depends.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Schlatt came home the following evening with the softest look Techno’s ever seen on his face. Things must’ve gone well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter started off as a small little flashback that would've eventually faded into the main storyline, but i got a lil carried away; i had a lot of fun writing this one folks. i hope you guys enjoyed the schlatt and techno interactions :]


	4. Tangerine

Raising a child wasn’t an easy feat. That was something Techno knew all too well.

There was an ever-constant fear that he’d somehow make Tubbo’s life hell, that Techno’d end up raising the boy to be just as broken as he was. He did his best to be there emotionally for his son; that was the hardest part.

Techno never learned how to properly express his emotions, no matter how good or bad they were. He put in the effort to make sure Tubbo knew what he was feeling; he didn’t want Tubbo to have to play a constant guessing game around him. Making sure Tubbo knew he could talk to him and teaching him ways to express his emotions in a healthy way was a challenge. 

There was no book for Techno to read and no one he could turn to for advice, so he went by what he’d learned from Schlatt. While Schlatt wasn’t the most stable man out there, he was surprisingly in tune with his and others’ emotions.

Techno knew he wasn’t anywhere near perfect, he felt miles away from that. There’d be times when he’d feel so helpless and useless; it was always when he held Tubbo, running his hand through his son’s hair as he sobbed into his shoulder. He didn’t know what to do in those scenarios, when Tubbo’s worries would be too much for him. The words he needed to say never came to him. It never failed to make him feel like he was playing a losing game.

Tubbo had many questions, many that Techno could never answer. He asked if he had a mother, Techno couldn’t bring himself to ever say her name. He’d wonder why he wasn’t a pig hybrid only to be met with silence. Techno wished he could answer; he’d give anything to be able to push past all the guilt and pain and tell Tubbo the truth for once.  
It was hard to look at Tubbo, sometimes. It was even harder for Techno to admit that to himself.

With each year that passed, Tubbo began to look more and more like Schlatt. He had the same smile as Schlatt and the same eyes and the same horns and the same hair. It didn’t help that he acted like him, too. Whenever Schlatt got nervous, he’d tap his pinky and thumb together. Tubbo began to do the same when he got excited. Schlatt’s laugh was loud and unrestrained, Tubbo’s sounded the same (the only difference being the pitch). 

Techno wished he had coped better with Schlatt’s death. Maybe if he dealt with his grief better, it wouldn’t be so hard to look his son in the eyes at times. If he hadn’t repressed his sorrow, if he had just allowed himself to fully grieve for Schlatt, maybe his death wouldn’t sit so heavy on Techno’s heart.

While each new year brought with it an inescapable sadness, it also brought Techno a lot of pride for Tubbo. He was becoming such an amazing person. Techno could go on for hours about the growth he’s witnessed in his son; he could talk about how smart Tubbo was, about how creative his thoughts were, and about how incredibly kind he’d become. There was never a shortage of things that Tubbo managed to amaze him with. As Tubbo got older and passed milestone by milestone, Techno watched and supported him as much as he could. Techno wasn’t the only one, Tubbo had plenty of supporters in his corner.

If only Schlatt could see how Tubbo’s grown.

Tubbo was the light of his life, something Techno never expected to happen when he first began to take care of Tubbo. He’d told himself he wouldn’t get too attached. He told himself he wasn’t taking care of this child because he cared for Tubbo, but only because Schlatt asked him to. Oh how he tried to keep telling himself that lie.

It was harder to trick himself with every one of Tubbo’s laughs, with every flower that was handed to him, with every time Tubbo’d call him dad. Techno had never wanted to protect anyone more than he wanted to protect Tubbo; he used to write it off as wanting to keep Schlatt’s bloodline alive. His lies to himself began to sound more hollow, more shaky. 

It took too long for Techno to finally admit that he saw Tubbo as his son. The moment he did was ingrained into Techno’s brain, a memory he was never going to forget. It was Tubbo’s birthday and Techno had prepared a picnic for them to enjoy in a flower field Tubbo had grown attached to. Tubbo spent the day running around the field, picking flowers, and talking to Techno about anything that he deemed important. When they walked back to the inn they were staying at, Tubbo tucked into Techno’s arms, Tubbo looked at Techno and smiled.

“Thank you, dad.”

It wasn’t like Tubbo never called Techno dad or that he never thanked him, that was common. What really got to Techno was the way in which he said it, like he couldn’t be happier than in that moment. The genuine joy in his voice made Techno’s heart melt. _I can’t believe he’s my son_. The thought was so clear and so loud and for once Techno didn’t care to try and fight it. Tubbo was his son.

“You’re welcome, Tubbo.”

Things felt different after that.

It was easier to care for Tubbo, to show him how much he cared. Tubbo was no longer Schlatt’s son but his. It was no longer a favor to Schlatt, it was just Techno doing his best to assure his son’s safety and happiness. Techno wasn’t sure if Tubbo picked up on the differences. It didn’t matter, really, as long as Tubbo knew that he was loved. (Tubbo was acting much more affectionate after that day, though, the hesitance he used to display was completely gone; he definitely sensed the changes.)

There wasn’t a day that went by where Techno didn’t feel guilty for the childhood he gave Tubbo. Sure, Tubbo had it better than others, but Techno wished he could give him the perfect childhood. Tubbo didn’t deserve to move so much, to have everything he knew changed in an instant. He didn’t deserve the worries and paranoia that plagued him. Tubbo deserved all that the world could give. He didn’t deserve to feel lonely and as if all he had was Techno. Techno would destroy the world if it meant Tubbo had more people to depend on.

=+=

“Dad.”

It was late, so incredibly late. If Techno had to guess, he’d say it was 3 in the morning. Why was Tubbo even awake?

“What’s wrong?”

Tubbo was standing next to Techno’s bed, looking embarrassed as he wrung his hands together. It looked as if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep all night. Techno pulled Tubbo onto his bed, letting his son snuggle into his chest. With Tubbo this close Techno could feel just how quick he’d been breathing and the tears that slowly soaked through his shirt.

“I’m scared.” Techno’s heart was torn to pieces upon hearing Tubbo’s voice.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Tubbo shook his head. “Just tell me I’m safe.”

Techno wished he knew what was going through Tubbo’s head.

“You’re safe, Tubbo. I won’t let anything hurt you, okay? You’re safe, you’re okay.”

Techno kept whispering assurances to Tubbo and soon enough, Tubbo was fast asleep. Running his hand through Tubbo’s hair, Techno did his best to push away his worry for his son. Tubbo didn’t need his worry, at least not right then. Tubbo needed his support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i,,,,love them  
> with every chapter i write, i fall more and more in love with the concept of technodad; it is just so much fun


	5. Day in June

Wednesdays were Niki’s busiest days. There really was no reason why, it just was. Niki wished she could just close up, tell everyone she was sick or some other lie. She sighed, turning to look at the young boy sitting behind the counter. She couldn’t close up.

The addition of Tubbo to her everyday life wasn’t something Niki would’ve ever predicted. Honestly, she’s still unsure about how it even happened. She made a small comment to Techno when he’d stopped by her shop one day, telling him she could take care of Tubbo if he was ever too busy. The only reason she offered in the first place was because Techno looked exhausted. He was practically seconds away from passing out in the middle of her shop. The man needed a break and Niki was more than willing to allow him to get one.

From then on, it was a blur. Niki could only assume that Techno agreed because, next thing she knows, she’s watching Tubbo nearly every weekday.

Niki didn’t mind. It was good to see Techno walk in everyday looking more and more refreshed and rested. She may have barely known him, but she was starting to genuinely worry and care about his well-being with every conversation they had. She’d also started to get attached to Tubbo, who was better company than she would’ve ever guessed.

Before Tubbo, Niki didn’t have any consistent company. It was just her and whatever customers entered. Sure, she had friends who would visit every now and then, but it was never constant. It got lonely sometimes.

“Tubbo, think you could help me out?”

“With what?”

“Do you know how to sweep?”

“I think so.”

“Well, can you sweep the front of the store? Just make sure to be mindful of any customers, okay?” Niki held the broom out to Tubbo. He took it without much hesitation, smiling up at Niki and giving her a salute.

“Yes ma’am!”

Niki smiled to herself as Tubbo ran off to the front, chuckling slightly as she moved to restock the shelves. Her shop felt much more vibrant and lively with Tubbo around. Whenever he had nothing to do, he’d paint or sing. There were way too many paintings and drawings hanging on Niki’s walls (they may not have been masterpieces but she cherished every single one) and she always had one of Tubbo’s songs stuck in her head. 

There were days when business was slow, when all Niki wanted was to curl up in her bed and sleep for hours. On those days, she’d stay behind the counter reading and hoping that time would crawl faster. Tubbo would always end those days curled up in her lap, sleeping while she read out loud. She always favored slow days.

Niki looked to the front of the store, wanting to make sure Tubbo hadn’t accidentally knocked anything over (it’s surprising how many times it’s actually happened). The customers didn’t seem to mind the way Tubbo erratically moved across the floor, sweeping in a nonsensical pattern. It brought a smile to Niki’s face. She made a mental note to actually teach Tubbo how to properly use a broom.

The store mattered more to Niki than anything else. She spent months looking into where she’d set up shop, wanting to choose the most ideal location. Everything about her store was carefully thought over; no detail was overlooked. It was important to her that everything worked smoothly. She took a big risk with it and poured all of her energy into it. If anything ever went wrong, it’d be a failure ( _she_ would be a failure). It was her chance to be independent and to be her own person, there was no fucking way that she would give that up.

Her biological family was very suffocating and traditional. They believed Niki’s place was as a wife, a homemaker. The thought made Niki sick to her stomach. Thinking about being married made her skin crawl and left a bad taste in her mouth. This future that her parents painted for her, the one her own brother supported, was one that Niki knew would make her unhappy. She tried telling them, but she was always brushed off. She knew they’d never listen the minute they started throwing suitors at her. 

Leaving the capital and coming to this town was the best decision Niki had ever made. She was able to finally be her own person. It felt good to make this life for herself and to figure out what _she_ wanted. Niki was able to cobble together a life that she wanted and have a family that she chose (a family that supported her and treated her like an individual).

Niki was happy with the family she had now. It was just her, Eret, Karl, Techno, and Tubbo. No matter how strange they fit together, Niki wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“Niki!” Tubbo called out, quickly bringing Niki out of her head. She turned to look at the ram hybrid who was standing by the register. When he saw that he had her attention he pointed to something just out of sight. “Someone needs to checkout!”

“Thank you for telling me, Tubbo.” Niki moved to work with the customer, ruffling Tubbo’s hair when she passed by him.

The day continued on without any issues, which Niki was grateful for. After finishing sweeping the store (even though it was a messy job), Tubbo was very insistent on helping Niki out even more. Niki didn’t have the heart to say not, especially when he looked so eager. She ended up giving Tubbo simple tasks, keeping a close eye on him as he energetically went through each one.

Yeah, Niki would do anything to ensure Tubbo’s happiness.

After Niki closed up shop, flipping the open sign over and closing the front curtains, she turned to look at Tubbo. He was sitting on the floor, wrapped up in a blanket with a mug of tea in his hand. “Do y’know when Techno will be coming to pick you up?”

Tubbo shook his head and Niki sighed. The sun was just beginning to set, there was no way he was still able to function without much late. Or maybe he could. Niki knew Techno was awfully fond of pushing him when he really shouldn’t and she worried this was another instance of that.

“Well, what if I take you back home instead? We can bring your dad a treat.”

“Yeah! Can we bring him something with strawberries? He really likes strawberries!”

“Of course we can.”

Just a few minutes later, Niki was walking hand-in-hand with Tubbo. In Tubbo’s free hand was a bag that held a slice of strawberry cake and a few oatmeal cookies (they were chosen by Tubbo, who insisted that the sweets needed to be absolutely perfect). She hadn’t been to their home in weeks and she was admittedly excited to see what progress had been made. With the way Tubbo talked about his house and how it changed nearly every day, Niki was prepared to see an almost completely different building.

The house certainly was very different.

It was now two stories and the gray outer walls were now a dark shade of green. Niki knew there’d be changes, of course, but not like this. The house she remembered looked nothing like the one she saw before her. Techno certainly was working hard. She understood why he’d stop by the shop so late now.

Hell, even the land around the two-story cottage was transformed. It honestly looked like something out of a story book, the sort of place Niki would only dream of living in.

“It looks nice, right?” Tubbo asked, looking particularly proud of the work his father had done.

“That’s an understatement,” Niki muttered as she continued to look over the house. “It looks amazing.”

Tubbo nodded and started walking ahead. Right, she wasn’t here to ogle their home, Niki was there to drop Tubbo off. “Dad worked on it, so obviously it’s amazing!”

Just as the two of them reached the front door, Techno stepped out. The pig hybrid froze when he saw them; he looked just ever so slightly shocked that they were there. The shock melted into something happy as Tubbo let go of Niki’s hand to go hug his father.

“How was your day, Tubbo?”

“Great! Niki let me help in her store! I sweeped!”

Techno looked at Niki for confirmation and, when she nodded, turned back to Tubbo with a grin on his face. Watching Techno and Tubbo interact never failed to make Niki smile. She cared for the both of them, much more than she cared to admit, and knowing that they were happy made her happy in turn.

“Sorry that I didn’t pick him up, I wasn’t really paying attention to the time.”

“I don’t mind, you know that Techno.”

The look in Techno’s eyes softened and Niki knew that whatever words that followed would be a lie, “Yeah, I know.”

“Tubbo has a surprise for you.”

“He does?”

“I do!” Tubbo lifted the bag and gave it a small shake, excitement clear in his blue eyes. “It was Niki’s idea so you have to thank her first!”

Techno nodded, “Well, thank you-”

“No!” Tubbo exclaimed. Niki couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the scandalized look on Tubbo’s face. The boy made it seem like Techno had just committed a crime. “You can’t thank her before opening it! That’s bad manners!”

“Oh, gods, of course, what was I thinking?”

“Apologize!”

“I’m sorry, Niki.”

Tubbo nodded at Techno’s apology, giving it his approval (even if it sounded far too amused to be genuine). Niki found herself giggling quietly, unable to restrain them for any longer.

“It’s fine.”

“No, you have to forgive him.”

“Ok, well, Techno I forgive you.”

Tubbo smiled triumphantly and moved past Techno to open the front door to his home. “Now you have to open the present inside. Niki has to be there, too.” Tubbo turned to look at Niki now, fixing her with one of the most pleading faces Niki’s ever seen on him. “You can stay, right?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

“I can stay for a while.”

And just like that Niki was ushered into the house by Tubbo. In a few moments, Niki found herself in the kitchen sitting on a stool. The small, cozy kitchen reminded Niki of her shop in all the small ways. Tubbo’s drawings were hanging on many empty spaces and the same scents she associated with her home lingered in the kitchen. It made her feel much more comfortable in the unfamiliar space.

Techno walked in a few seconds later, holding the bag Niki had packed earlier delicately. The way he held made it look as if he were afraid to break what was in it. Tubbo’s hands were practically a blur as they moved, waiting for his father to see what he had chosen.

“So what’s in here?”

“It’s a surprise!” Tubbo said, practically yelling.

“Yeah, Techno, it’s a surprise,” Niki added, giggling at the nervous look on Techno’s face. “It’s nothing bad, I swear.”

“You’re not supposed to swear.”

“I’m an adult, I can swear.”

While they were arguing (if it could even be called that), Techno had already started to take out the contents of the bag. He looked at the sweets with a fond smile, a look in his eyes that let Niki know that they were a good call.

“Thank you, Niki.’ The words sounded so genuine, like they were coming straight from Techno’s heart.

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you, too, Tubbo.”

“You’re welcome Dad!”

That evening easily went down as one of Niki’s favorites. She ended up staying for dinner, relishing in the warm and familial atmosphere of the household. It was easy to fit into the simple and light conversation between Techno and Tubbo. She felt a strong sense of belonging that night that carried onto any interaction with the family of two. 

=+=

“It’s really cold.”

“I’m sorry, Tubs.”

“You can’t control the weather.”

Eret huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes as Tubbo laughed along with him. The young boy’s hands were stuffed in his coat pockets and his face was buried in the scarf wrapped around his neck. His nose and cheeks were painted a light red. He got cold easily for a ram.

To be fair, it was awfully cold for it only being November. The temperatures had been getting lower by the day. That weekend would most likely end up being the last farmer’s market before spring came along again. The ground was already becoming too difficult to work with and some harvests had already been having bad yields. Plenty of farmers had already come to Eret and asked him to do something, even though he really couldn’t. He wasn’t really looking forward to the next few complaint-filled weeks.

“If the cold’s bothering you that much, you can always head inside any of the stores nearby.”

Tubbo immediately shook his head, “I told Dad I’d keep watch until he got back and he’s not back. What if someone steals our plants?”

“I can take over for you, I’d say I’m pretty trustworthy.”

Another shake of his head. “Sorry, I promised.”

“Then I’ll just wait with you and make sure you don’t freeze out here.”

“Ok.”

It was always in moments like these where Eret would find himself bumping into Tubbo or Techno; it was always the stranger and less common moments of everyday life. He’d run into them while Tubbo had just caught a wild chicken in his arms and he’d run into them seconds after Techno had dropped two armfuls of shopping (both instances were ingrained into Eret’s mind, the memories often replaying).

Eret briefly wondered where Techno had run off to. The man wasn’t too fond of leaving Tubbo alone, so it certainly was a little odd. Tubbo didn’t seem to be worried about it and that was enough for Eret not to be worried either.

Anyone that passed by was given a scrutinizing look from Tubbo, who was incredibly determined to keep all of his father’s produce safe. It was kind of amusing to see the way people reacted to being basically glared at by a seven year old. Some people would speed up and others would glare right back at Tubbo.

“I don’t think you need to scare everyone that passes by, you know.”

“You’re wrong. Scaring them means they won’t mess with what Dad grew.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.”

“Nope.”

Eret doesn’t quite remember when Techno and Tubbo shifted from being the newest people in town to people he would consider close friends. He assumed it happened when Tubbo invited him over for lunch, telling him that he had to have some of the lemonade he made on his own. It also could’ve happened when Techno offered him a basket full of food he’d grown; it was his way of showing thanks, even though he never said those words directly. Either way, Eret was grateful for the change in dynamic.

Niki was awfully fond of the both of them and Eret trusted Niki, so he trusted them by extension at the beginning. As he ran into them time and time again, learning more and more about them, Eret began to understand how Niki saw them (though he doubted he’d ever see them the same way Niki did).

“Is the farmer’s market gonna close?”

“Next week, probably. It’s too cold for most people to plant any crops, unfortunately.”

“Why does the cold stop them?”

“The soil becomes frozen and you can’t plant things in frozen soil.”

Tubbo took the information in, looking as if he was just given the universe’s biggest secrets. Maybe that was just a little kid thing or maybe it was just a Tubbo thing.

Eventually, Tubbo got tired of standing and he sat down on the cold floor even though Eret had repeatedly told him that that really wasn’t a good idea. Tubbo continued his ‘job’ from the floor and Eret wished that the kid would listen for once. He understood the commitment, really, but Tubbo just looked so uncomfortable.

“Tubbo, there is a chair right there.”

“But that’s Dad’s chair! I can’t use it, it’s not mine!”

“He wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t care.”

Eret sighed and took a seat right next to Tubbo in solidarity and immediately regretted it. The ground was much colder than the air surrounding them. He hoped Techno would hurry with whatever he was doing, for both his and Tubbo’s sake.

It took ten more minutes of sitting on the cold cobblestone ground before Techno arrived, holding a cup of something warm and a small pastry. He looked at Eret and Tubbo sitting on the floor, a question in his eyes.

“Blame Tubbo,” Eret muttered, standing up and dusting off the back of his pants. Tubbo followed after him, mimicking Eret’s actions to a T.

“My legs got tired, so I sat down. Eret was helping me so he sat down too,” Tubbo explained.

“And you decided to sit on the floor? And not the chair?”

“Again, blame Tubbo.”

Techno still looked a little bewildered, unable to follow any line of logic his son provided him. It was a look Eret was used to seeing on the man and it was one that didn’t make him regret sitting in the cold with Tubbo. “Thanks for watching him, Eret. If I knew you were waiting, I wouldn’t have taken so long.”

“I had nothing else to do, so it’s fine.”

Techno looked at the items in his hands and Eret could practically see his brain working. “I brought Tubbo some hot cocoa and a croissant.”

Tubbo took the two items with a quick thank you, shoulders slumping in relief at the warmth that the hot cocoa provided. He pressed the cup to his cheek, humming in contentment.

“I’ll go get you some, too.”

“You don't have to, Techno.”

Fifteen minutes later, Eret was sipping a cup of hot cocoa and taking bites from a cinnamon roll.

=+=

Karl peered over at Techno, who had just started setting up his stall. The pig hybrid was hastily moving things out of his wagon onto the table that was typically reserved for him. Karl’s never seen him move this quickly and it was, admittedly, amusing to witness.

“Didn’t know you were capable of being late.”

Techno gave Karl a look that just screamed ‘please leave me alone, I don’t have the patience for this.’ Good thing Karl never learned to read looks.

“Did you wake up late or something? Can’t really brag about your internal alarm clock now, huh?”

That managed to get a quick laugh out of Techno (which Karl counted as a win). He seemed a little less annoyed at Karl than he did when he first arrived, with Karl consistently teasing the man (another win in Karl’s head).

“Tubbo’s the one who woke up late.”

Karl hummed, nodding. “Sure, sure, blame the kid.”

The comment was rewarded with another huffed laugh. Man, Karl sure was on a roll that day. It typically was much harder to get a laugh (no matter how stifled or small) out of Techno; he would usually roll his eyes and ignore Karl’s attempts to get a response. Guess he was just in a better mood.

“I can help, if you want.”

Techno paused and turned to look at Karl, a jar of honey in one hand and a basket of potatoes in the other. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m getting tired of sitting around, y’know?”

Karl stood up and walked over to help out Techno, wincing at just how much was still left in the wagon. It baffled him that one man could manage to grow that much food. There were two things that stood out to Karl, though. “Since when did you sell flowers and honey?”

“Since now.”

Karl laughed, grabbing a crate of mixed vegetables. “Fair enough,” he mumbled to himself as he did his best to place the crate the way Techno wanted him to (“You have to move it more to the left, no, not that left, the other way.”).

It had been nearly a year since Techno first became his ‘neighbor’ at the farmer’s market. He sort of just appeared one weekend and Karl never questioned or fought it. Really, there was no reason to. It’s not like the man posed any sort of competition; Karl sold fruits and Techno sold vegetables, there was no real overlap there. 

Though he was used to spending the weekends on his own (the person to his other side was asleep most of the time), Karl easily welcomed his new neighbor with open arms. Techno’d often humor Karl’s dumb questions, answering all of them seriously. It was definitely an interesting way to pass the time and it made Karl way too attached to Techno (you see, most people would ignore his efforts to start conversations and having someone not ignore him for once was the best thing in the world).

“You’re gonna have to tell me your secrets at one point, man,” Karl said after setting down the last crate.

“What secrets?”

“How you manage to grow so much. Dude, you grow like way more than any other one-person farm!”

“I guess I do.”

“You guess?”

“I mean, yeah.”

Karl took a seat once again in his own stall, leaning back in the chair and looking up at the nearly cloudless sky. “You’re crazy.”

Techno rolled his eyes, taking a seat as well. “I’d argue that you’re way worse.”

“Now you’re just delusional.”

The morning passed by like it usually did: unbelievably slow. Most people were asleep at this point, no one wanting to wake up early on a Saturday. Karl didn’t really mind; he could do virtually whatever he wanted without having to worry if he accidentally off a potential buyer.

Techno’s good mood never faded, much to Karl’s delight. He was much quicker to join in on Karl’s jokes, falling into the rhythm of things faster than he usually did. It made Karl giddy and excited in a way he didn’t quite know was possible. Yeah, he had to work on his attachment issues.

Every conversation seemed to flow easier than it usually did, any sort of awkward energy being pushed away in favor of something more comfortable. It made the warm morning that much warmer.

Noon rolled around and Karl was fully prepared to go find a stall that sold something premade until Techno cleared his throat. Karl looked to the hybrid with an eyebrow raised. “What’s up man?”

“I made you lunch.” Techno was holding out a paper bag, looking extremely nervous.

Karl took the bag with a wide smile. “Thanks! You know, I’ve always wanted to try your cooking. Every time you pack food it looks amazing.”

Techno only sighed in relief, his shoulders slumping. It made Karl feel a little better to know that Techno was just as afraid of accidentally fucking up their friendship as he was.

“Wait, is this why you were late?” Karl asked, receiving no response. He looked at Techno with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Techno only ignored him, busying himself with his own lunch. “Did you lie about Tubbo waking up late? You don’t have to lie to me, Techno, I’m your best friend!”

“You’re not my best friend.”

“You just keep lying today, it’s okay to be honest.”

“Just shut up and eat your food.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say Mr. Blade.”

The food Techno made him really was good.

=+=

“Tubbo, have you set the table?”

“Yes!”

“Did you wash up?”

“Yes!”

“Since you’re all done, can you watch the door?”

“Okay!”

Techno went back to cooking as Tubbo rushed to the front door, taking his father’s instructions a little too literally. Cooking was usually something that Techno found comfort in; it was something he could easily lose himself in. It was a little less comforting when he knew he was making food for more than just himself and Tubbo.

The decision to invite Niki, Eret, and Karl over for dinner was a hasty one and one that Techno really wished he’d thought over more. There was this imaginary pressure that everything had to be perfect for the guests no matter what. Gods, it was too late to back out of it.

His usual confidence in both his home and cooking was severely shaken. What if they hated the food? What if they thought the house was a mess? What if they thought _he_ was a mess?

There was so much that could go wrong.

Techno let his worries build and build, being pulled from his anxiety by a knock at the front door. He didn’t turn to look (it would’ve made his nerves triple) so he settled for listening. Tubbo opened the door and greeted Niki. His son was much more excited about tonight than Techno was and it definitely showed; Techno could clearly hear the smile in Tubbo’s voice as he and Niki spoke.

Maybe Tubbo would handle all of the interactions so that Techno wouldn’t have to. Yeah, that could work.

“Need any help?” Niki asked, standing next to Techno and looking at what he was working on. He couldn’t really see her face and that was more nerve wracking than the fact that she could be mentally criticizing his cooking.

“No, I’m almost done, it’s fine.”

“If you say so. I brought a cake, do you mind if I set it down on the counter?”

When Techno shook his head, Niki moved away and Techno felt that he could finally breathe again. If this was how the rest of the night would go, he was starting to heavily dread it. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe things would go just fine. Hopefully that’d be the case. He prayed that it would be.

A few minutes passed by with Niki making small talk to try and diffuse Techno’s obvious nerves. Techno had just begun plating the meal when there was another knock at the door. The sound was abrupt and it nearly made Techno drop the pan that was in his hands.

“I bet it’s Karl,” Niki said. “He never knocks normally, no matter what.”

It was indeed Karl.

He was much louder than Niki was and it took less effort to hear what he was saying. Karl walked into the kitchen, Tubbo trailing behind him. “Eret told me he was going to be a little late.”

Well, that was fine. Perfectly, totally fine. What if Eret was just saying that and he didn’t wanna come? Was that just a nice way to cancel? Oh gods-

“Techno, you okay buddy?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It didn’t take that much longer for all the food to be properly plated. Niki and Karl offered to help bring over the plates to the dining table, but Tubbo immediately shot them down; they were guests and guests weren’t supposed to do any work. Tubbo also shot down any of Techno’s attempts to carry plates over (the only explanation he got from Tubbo was just a simple “you cooked.”).

It took all of Techno’s energy to stop himself from helping his son out whenever he’d walk to the table, holding too many things at once. His heart nearly stopped every time he thought something would fall.

“This is stressful to watch,” Karl said, laughing when Tubbo stuck his tongue out. “What a way to treat your guest, Tubster!”

“You were being mean!”

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

Niki shook her head, a fond smile on her face. “You’re acting worse than a child, Karl, where are your manners?”

“They left the second I crossed the threshold.”

It was easier for Techno to briefly forget his worries as everyone spoke. He got lost in the words everyone said, finding slight comfort in the familiarity of it. Even with the stress that arose every time Tubbo went back and forth from the kitchen and dining room, Techno was much more calm than he was just an hour before. It’s a lot harder to think that he’s fucked up when he could see Karl and Niki laughing and smiling.

There was one last knock at the front door the second Tubbo put down the last plate. He quickly went to open the door, yelling “I’ve got it!”

“He’s been really excited for today,” Techno said when he caught sight of Niki’s amused yet questioning look. She merely nodded and Techno knew she understood; she spent just as much time with Tubbo as Techno did.

“Eret’s got really good timing,” Karl commented. Of everyone, he’d seemed the most eager to start eating. Techno guessed that he hadn’t eaten any lunch (not because he chose not to, but because he just happened to forget; it wouldn’t be the first time it happened).

Tubbo led Eret into the dining room, immediately taking his seat next to Techno. Eret was standing awkwardly and Karl immediately went to tease him about it, ignoring when Niki reprimanded him for it.

“Sorry that I was late, I got a little held up.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Techno said. Eret’s apology had managed to calm him even further. Knowing that his worries that Eret would simply not show up were, well, just worries definitely removed much of the stress that was settling in his head.

“We know that your a busy man,” Niki added.

As the night continued, Techno realized that his worries were all incredibly unfounded. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the meal (Karl would throw compliments about the food at Techno way too often, not that he really minded). There never was much of a quiet moment between the five, someone always managing to strike up some sort of conversation whenever there was a lull.

Techno was enjoying the night much more than he thought he would. This small group, no matter how strangely put together it felt at times, made Techno feel as if he was genuinely a part of a family. It was in the way they’d rope him into any conversation and in the way they made him and his efforts feel appreciated without any words.

This was definitely not a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot twist: none these days were in june and i just named the chapter after a random song on my technodad playlist
> 
> this is, by far, the longest chapter and i'm still unable to believe that i was able to write this much
> 
> i would also like to say that i appreciate every single comment (they all make me Cry, you guys are great), i'm just very bad at responding to them


	6. Bashful Creatures

Techno watched with wide eyes as Schlatt rummaged through the bathroom cabinets, a passed out and injured child cradled in his arm. He’d come home late at night, the rough opening of the front door waking Techno up. After being woken up, he’d wandered downstairs to see whatever this was.

The kid in Schlatt’s arms couldn’t have been older than eight, looking way too tall and way too skinny. There was an uncomfortable amount of blood on both Schlatt and the kid. Techno couldn’t tell if the blood was coming from Schlatt or the stranger and he really didn’t wanna find out, at least not right then.

“Uh, Schlatt-”

“Not right now kid, kinda busy.”

Well, _obviously_.

Techno continued watching Schlatt until the older man found what he was looking for, letting out a quick triumphant yell. In seconds, Schlatt was moving out of the bathroom and moving towards his office. Techno remained rooted in his spot right outside the bathroom until the door to the office shut behind Schlatt. Only then did he finally relax.

He looked at the state the bathroom was in, wincing when he saw bloodied footprints and handprints. There were things strewn across the floor and nearly all the cabinets were opened. Might as well clean up, there was no way he’d be getting any sleep now.

With shaking hands, Techno set upon cleaning. As he went through the slightly unfamiliar motions, his mind wandered to the injured kid. There were a lot of questions running through Techno’s mind, none of them having any simple or very pleasant answers. Hell, he wasn’t very sure that he wanted any answers. The situation felt unbearably close to the one Techno was in just a couple of years ago.

By the time Techno finished, Schlatt was still in his office. He wanted to be in there, too, and to know what was happening. It didn’t really sit well with him that Schlatt was on his own with a stranger, no matter how young this stranger was. What if the kid wanted to hurt Schlatt? 

Techno sighed and sat down by the door, willing to wait for hours until it opened again.

An hour passed before Schlatt finally opened the door, looking at where Techno was sat immediately. He smiled and Techno found all his worries disappearing. Schlatt wouldn’t be smiling if things had gone wrong, right?

“What happened?” Techno asked, pulling himself up.

“A lot.”

Schlatt opened the door to his office even wider, letting Techno come in. It was just as it usually was (illuminated by dim lamps and comfortably warm) except the stranger was lying on the couch that was pushed to the corner of the room. Techno glared at the still unconscious child, just slightly more malicious than he needed to be.

“Are you gonna explain?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Then explain.”

And boy did Schlatt explain.

He’d gone out to see Connor, who’d called him earlier that evening. The night went about as well as Schlatt expected it to, nothing out of the ordinary happening until he was coming back home.

(“You’re making this sound like a bedtime story.”  
“And what about it? Keeps you more engaged.”)

Instead of taking the normal, paved and well-lit path, Schlatt decided it’d be a good night to take the forest path; that path was less traveled but, according to Schlatt, much more relaxing. He’d heard a kid yelling for help and went to help (he left out the part where he felt a weird sense of deja vu, as if he was transported to the clearing he’d found Techno in). The kid was bleeding from an arrow wound, the arrow nowhere to be seen. Schlatt didn’t have much time to properly assess what happened when the kid passed out.

“The rest is pretty obvious.”

“No it’s not.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Schlatt laughed and Techno finally noticed just how exhausted he sounded. When was the last time he’d gotten any sleep?

“Are you going to bed now?”

“Can’t,” Schlatt said, elaborating when he saw the confused look on Techno’s face. “Gotta make sure this kid doesn’t wake up alone.”

“I’ll watch him. I got enough sleep, I’m fine.”

“Techno, buddy, you need more rest than I do.”

“I disagree.”

“You can’t just-”

“I. Disagree.”

“Ok, ok, you disagree, I got it.”

Techno pushed Schlatt towards the office door, his intentions very clear. “Go. I’ll stay. We’re, like, the same age. He’ll be less stressed if he sees me instead of you. I think. Probably. Maybe.”

Schlatt looked at Techno, his brown eyes analyzing him. Gods, it made Techno unreasonably mad whenever he did this. Techno was aware that he was a child, but being looked at like this made him feel years younger. “Ok, you win. I’ll get some sleep.”

Schlatt’s hand hovered over the door handle, a faint tremor barely noticeable. “Goodnight Techno.”

“Goodnight Schlatt.”

The office door was pulled shut and Techno was left alone (but not really).

Techno sat down at the foot of the couch, closing his eyes as his back hit the plush material. His eyes traced the patterns in the ceiling, following the curved shapes with mild disinterest. There had to be other ways to spend his time.

He could always grab a book off of one of Schlatt’s many shelves, but there was no guarantee that he’d even be able to read it; he’d never been given a proper education so he wasn’t very literate. Even if he could read any of them, Schlatt had boring books. They were always about business, a topic that Techno had no interest in.

There was no harm in looking through the shelves, Techno decided.

The next few hours were spent picking a book, flipping through the first few pages, and putting it right back. It was repetitive and did absolutely nothing to take away Techno’s boredom, but at least it was a way to spend the time.

After spending way too long pretending to read, Techno found himself standing next to the stranger. While he looked human, there were some small qualities that made Techno question his humanity. His brown hair had black strands which faintly glowed and his hands looked as if they were stained with obsidian. Techno couldn’t really figure out what he was, not very well-versed with what sort of hybrids existed.

Techno was staring at the stranger, trying to figure him out, when he began coughing violently. Briefly, Techno thought that he should probably do or get something to help him, but he was stuck staring as he curled in on himself through his coughing.

The coughs eventually died out, leaving the office in complete silence as the stranger slowly sat himself up. Techno considered saying something.

Key word: considered.

Instead, he settled for waiting until the stranger noticed him. It was, admittedly, a horrible plan. Techno couldn’t really find it in himself to care. 

The stranger put his hand to his wound, wincing (the wound still looked like shit, blood already soaking through the many bandages). He didn’t look terribly surprised that he was in an unfamiliar room, he just looked annoyed. Techno watched with barely concealed interest as he took in the room with wide, purple eyes.

Those eyes finally landed on Techno and, with a small shout, the stranger practically flew off the couch. He finally looked scared of the situation he was in.

“Who are you?” The stranger’s voice sounded terrible, faded and scratchy. Techno really should’ve gotten him a glass of water.

“I don’t know, who are you?”

“Wilbur.”

Techno decided that this kid really wasn’t that smart as he moved to stand on shaky legs (legs which looked way too thin to support a full body, Techno was beginning to grow just a little concerned).

“Technoblade.”

“What type of name is that?”

“Well, what type of name is Wilbur then? For someone with a bleeding shoulder, you sure are bold.”

“You’re not the man that helped me.”

“Of course not.”

“Then who are you?” Wilbur looked a little stunned, which Techno thought was unfair. He came into his home, bleeding out, and then decided he could ask whatever questions he wanted. Extremely rude, if you asked Techno.

“His son.”

“Really?”

Techno wasn’t too sure if he actually was Schlatt’s son, but he was in his head and that had to count for something (Wilbur didn’t need to know the specifics, okay? It’s not like he could really prove Techno wrong). “Yes, really.”

“Oh, cool.”

“I guess.”

It was silent. This wasn’t like the silences with Schlatt or Connor, where Techno would feel fine and maybe even comfortable with the lack of noise. With Wilbur, it was suffocating and made Techno want to escape. It wasn’t helped by the way Wilbur looked at him, like he was trying to figure him out. The look in those unnerving purple eyes reminded Techno too much of Schlatt and that just wasn’t okay.

“Sit down. I’ll go get you some food and water.”

Techno didn’t wait to hear a response, quickly leaving the office. Even as he walked to the kitchen, he still felt eyes on his back. It made him carefully think through every action and every step and every breath.

Wilbur needed to leave as soon as possible, Techno thought as he trudged to the office.

Those dumb eyes were focused on him again the second Techno opened the door. It nearly made him drop the bottle of water he carried (which really wasn’t Wilbur’s fault but Techno blamed him anyway).

“I-I didn’t actually think you’d come back.”

“That’s nice.” Maybe Techno felt a little bad for the kid, just a tiny bit. “The bread might not taste too good, Schlatt made it.”

“Who’s Schlatt?”

“The guy that helped you.”

“Why do you have such weird names?”

“And why are you so damn judgmental, huh?”

Wilbur seemed to get embarrassed at that, the tips of his ears glowing a faint purple (which was definitely not normal) as he ignored Techno in favor of the bread. Techno had never known the satisfaction of revenge, but he was sure he did when he witnessed Wilbur go through the stages of grief in a matter of seconds; he really shouldn’t have eaten the bread first.

It’s quiet again as Wilbur finished both the water and bread. He went through both of them quickly and Techno couldn’t help but wonder if the injury was the only reason (people can be awfully cruel and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Wilbur could’ve been an unfortunate victim of that cruelty).

“Am I- Will I- Can I stay?” Wilbur was looking down at his lap, his ears flushed purple once again. His hands were flitting around, moving from his lap to his chest and to his lap again in a cycle that radiated nervous energy. Techno would’ve minded, but he thought he’d be a little nice.

“What d’you mean?”

“Are you guys gonna kick me out?”

“Not with that injury.”

“What about when it heals?”

“Depends on if you wanna stick around or not.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“I mean, yeah. I don’t think Schlatt plans on releasing you into the wild.”

Wilbur was grinning and Techno found himself having to suppress a smile. The kid’s smile was just too infectious, pure joy seeping from the facial expression and clinging onto Techno. And even though those stupid purple eyes were looking at him again, Techno didn’t care as much that time.

=+=

“Schlatt, are you crazy! You’re already struggling to take care of yourself and Techno and now you’re telling me you’re taking in another kid!”

“I can’t just leave him alone, he’s a fucking twig-”

“So? There are plenty of orphanages that’ll take care of him! You’re gonna land yourself in debt!”

“You know just as well as I do that putting that kid in an orphanage is a death sentence!”

Techno was sure he wasn’t supposed to be hearing this argument, but he couldn’t stop himself from pressing his ear against the heavy oak door to Schlatt’s office. It felt like an invasion of privacy (even if Schlatt and Connor’s voices were loud enough to be heard from outside).

Wilbur was right next to Techno, doing the same thing he was. He looked much more worried by the topic of conversation than Techno was. It’s not like Techno didn’t care, but it affected Wilbur in a way that it didn’t affect him. Sure, Techno would miss Wilbur, but his safety and future wasn’t hanging on a thread like Wilbur’s was. Techno wished he could assure Wilbur in some way, to let him know that there was no way that Schlatt would back down on this, but he couldn’t find the words. 

Techno was so sure of what would happen: it would end like nearly any big argument between Schlatt and Connor. Connor would, eventually, give in to Schlatt and drop the subject. No matter how strong Connor’s will was (and it was incredibly strong, Techno knew that for sure), Schlatt always managed to beat him. He didn’t know how to let Wlbur know what he knew.

“I’m scared, Techno.” Wilbur looked close to tears, so close that it made Techno’s chest ache. He didn’t think twice before pulling Wilbur into a hug. Wilbur immediately returned the hug, his arms wrapping around Techno as if the older boy was his only lifeline.

“Trust me, Schlatt won’t let you go.” _I won’t let you go_.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> techno is 11 in this chapter and wilbur is 9, just in case u were wondering
> 
> i told myself i wouldn't do another flashback chapter, yet here we are; they are just too much fun to write. it helps me briefly forget that, yes, i did kill of schlatt in the first chapter
> 
> every time i open the google doc for this fic, i am actively avoiding anything that happens in the smp canon; my brain just filters canon out as i go about writing this pig dad
> 
> again, i appreciate every single comment and they really motivate me to keep working on this as much as i do


	7. Tongues & Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> //tw: panic attack (never explicitly said that that's what it is, but it's heavily implied)

There was no way the mask just magically left the box again, right? That’s just not possible, at least Techno assumed it wasn’t. Maybe the gods were playing a trick on him, forcing him to face his sins after far too many years.

That god-awful piece of boar skull sat on the kitchen table once again, taunting him. It’s hollow and empty eyes were staring right at Techno, making him feel on edge in a way he forgot was even possible. He could list the cause of every slash and of every crack decorating the mask’s surface if he wanted to; luckily, that was the last thing on his mind as he stared that stupid thing down.

Why couldn’t it just rot away? It’d be so easy for it to decompose, he really wanted it to. Then Techno wouldn’t be forced to remember the man he used to be. If the mask were to just disappear forever, Techno was sure he could finally live stress free. He could actually be a simple farmer if it’d just _go away_.

It felt like a string suddenly snapped and everything that Techno was so desperately trying to keep away came rushing out. All the regret and guilt and shame and fear and panic overtook Techno, leaving his mind in a muddled state. No one thought was coherent; everything was a jumble of words, desperately trying to sort themselves out. His vision was focused on the mask and the hands that moved to hold it. Everything else was a blur of colors behind it.

His past choices were weighing down on him, resting heavily on his heart and crushing his lungs. Why did he have to be so fucking stupid? He should’ve chosen a different job, should’ve done something more productive. Maybe then his hands wouldn’t feel like they were coated in blood even though they were clean. Maybe he wouldn’t constantly feel like a monster, like a maniac hiding amongst regular people. Maybe if he’d just tried to be fucking normal he would still have a brother and maybe he’d still have a father.

Gods, he was a failure. Schlatt should’ve left him to die. Techno kinda wished he did. The world certainly wasn’t better off with him in it, Techno knew that for certain. Hell, the world might’ve been better if he could’ve just _died_.

The mask was laughing at him. Not literally, but it sure seemed like it. The mouth of the boar skull was slightly upturned and it felt like another slight at him, another punch to his chest. He wanted to crush it, to see it destroyed.

So he did (or at least tried to).

Techno put all his force, all of his hatred, into crushing the damned thing. There was the noise of a crack and he was so sure the whole thing would be in pieces soon enough, but then there was a hand at his elbow.

The touch was soft, a slight warmth against his skin. It was able to pull him out of his head just enough to realize that he wasn’t alone.

Right. Niki was here.

“Can you look at me?”

Could he?

He couldn’t.

“Techno, I need you to look at me. Focus on something other than _that_.” It didn’t take much brain power to understand what ‘that’ was.

“I don- I- okay.” Was that his voice? It had to be. It didn’t sound like him. It didn’t feel like him. He didn’t feel like him. It felt like all his senses were ripped from him and all that he could do was think and think and think and think and think and think and think-

Red eyes never left the skull.

“I’m sorry.” Was he crying? Or was it blood? Nothing felt real and whatever was making its way down his face made him feel even more off-kilter. It left him disorientated, his mind getting fuzzy at the edges. 

“You don’t have to be.”

“But I am.”

“And that’s okay.”

There were hands pulling at his own, removing each finger from the skull with a delicate precision. He didn’t want to let go. _Please don’t make him let go_.

The mask was pulled from his hands.

He sobbed.

He screamed and it hurt him. The sound coming out of him felt foreign and so did the ache in his chest that accompanied it.

There were arms wrapping around him and a voice whispering something to him. He didn’t care to try and listen to the words, just listening to the cadence of that voice. It did little to ease the panic that had settled deep in his bones, leaving him weak and unsteady.

He was sobbing in the arms that held him, his chest aching and his mind racing. A part of him was embarrassed, unbelievably ashamed, of the way he was acting; he shouldn’t be crying like this, especially not around someone else. Another part of him didn’t care at all, relieved that he was able to let go of everything that had built up. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to listen to any part of his brain.

Niki had taken out his braid, running her hands through his hair.

It made his mind flash to when he was young, to when he was still small enough to be held. The way Niki held him so gently reminded him of brown hair and of purple eyes and of a yellow sweater and of whispered lullabies.

He choked back another sob as memories fogged his mind.

The memories are accompanied by another wave of guilt, this time so much stronger. It was harder to ignore and much harder to replace.

His thoughts never stopped, an endless spiral into something that he desperately wanted to escape. He needed to feel something else, _anything_ else. 

Time passed and, aided by quiet words and calming touches, his mind slowly calmed down (the thoughts were still there, lingering, waiting for whenever he was next vulnerable). His chest hurt, his head hurt, and he was exhausted.

“Are you feeling better?”

He couldn’t bring himself to move, keeping his face pressed to Niki’s shoulder. He hoped she didn’t mind. “I-I don’t really, I don’t know.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Niki said nothing, still holding onto him and giving him the smallest sense of security. He wanted her to say something else, to stop the silence from creeping back in.

“Will you ever?”

“Maybe.”

“Better than a no.”

“Yeah.”

There was still a part of his mind yelling at him, begging him, to compose himself and try to save his dignity. It was telling him to stand up, to apologize, and to never mention this again. He ignored it completely; it had been far too long since he’d last been held like this. The safety and security he felt right then was something he needed, no matter how embarrassing it was (it was hard to fully convince himself; he couldn’t shake the fear that he was being a burden, that Niki was exhausted of him).

Niki stood them up after giving Techno a few more minutes to himself, making sure that he was balanced before finally letting go. He immediately missed the warmth and comfort she had provided (something he was sure she noticed). 

“Techno, I know I say this a lot, but I mean it. If you ever need help or a break or just someone to talk to, I’m here for you. And if not me, then Karl or Eret. We care about you, okay? It’s not good to keep things bottled up.”

Techno ignored how _safe_ Niki’s words made him feel. He wanted to believe those words without any doubt. “I know.”

Niki ended up making him something to eat, no matter how much Techno protested. She stayed with Techno as he ate and left after she made him promise to get some rest. It was strange to be cared for like that again. Techno thought he’d hate it, that he’d be against the thought of being coddled. He’d assumed that he’d hate not being in control even if it was for just a few hours. It was difficult to hate it, admittedly. He’d spent years caring for both himself and his son, it was nice to finally have someone care for him instead.

(Eret ended up letting Tubbo stay the night after receiving a message from Niki and when he dropped Tubbo off the next morning, he made Techno breakfast. He ignored all of Techno’s protests, just like Niki did.)

(Techno was unable to find the mask after that night and he wasn’t sure if he was happy about it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again am ignoring whatever the fuck is going on in the smp canon to write this (seriously what the actual fuck is going on, these block men cannot stop with the lore)
> 
> i swear, there'll be more Actual plot soon enough


	8. Dead Man's Interlude

Schlatt had always thought he’d go to hell when he died. He had no doubt that his soul would be tossed downwards without any second thoughts. There would be no pearly gates awaiting him and there would be no mercy. He was more than fine with it, honestly.

So when he finally kicked the bucket, Schlatt expected to feel the fires of hell. Instead, he was met with a void. There was nothing and he felt nothing. He wasn’t the most religious man, but he knew that no afterlife was just nothingness (at least no afterlife that he was raised to believe in). 

The void was cold, colder than any winter he’d ever experienced. Schlatt had no body, just a bundle of thoughts, but the cold still managed to seep in and surround him. It was comforting yet so unnerving, giving Schlatt both hope and dread. Spending the rest of time there wasn’t something he was too excited for; he’d take literally anything else other than the void.

And, after who knows how long, Schlatt finally got that something else.

One second he was in the void, cursing the cold, and then suddenly he’s in the middle of a town. He was still without a body, still without a voice. People would walk right through him without any care. He’d never been this unseen and, even though he knew he was dead, it made him just a little upset. Well, at least it wasn’t the void.

God, why was he even in this place? 

Schlatt had never seen this town once in his living life so why the fuck was his soul here? There were so many other places he knew he was more attached to, so many buildings and streets that he knew too well.

He turned and then suddenly it made sense. Making their way through the crowd slowly was Techno and Tubbo, both of them looking far more grown than Schlatt remembered. He wandered over to them, getting closer to his two sons. If he still had a heart, it would’ve been aching. Techno looked so much more mature and so much more relaxed; the near constant furrow in his brow that Schlatt knew too well was gone. Tubbo was no longer a baby, walking on steady legs and talking (no more of that baby babble that made Schlatt melt).

_His boys were so wonderful_.

Schlatt followed them around, appointing himself as their ghostly (because that’s what he was, wasn’t he? A ghost) guardian. He trailed after them no matter where they went or how far they wandered. He knew he latched on too late; never getting the chance to see Techno learn to care for himself and for a child and losing the chance to see Tubbo’s first steps or to hear him say his first words. It made him wish for more time, time that he knew he’d never get.

With every day that passed, he watched as Techno raised Tubbo to the best of his ability. It filled him with pride for the both of them. It also made him feel something bittersweet, something so close to want and yearning and longing. Schlatt may not have been able to raise Tubbo, but he was at least able to watch him grow (and that had to count for something, right?).

Schlatt knew next to nothing about being a ghost, but he was starting to get a handle on some things. If he concentrated enough, he could interact with the physical world (it would leave him drained and so close to returning to the void, but it was always worth it). It also seemed like his thoughts and all his feelings had an affect on those around him. He hadn’t noticed until Tubbo had his first major nightmare.

All Schlatt was doing was floating by Tubbo’s bed, letting his mind wander as he looked at his beautiful son (he was thinking of Minx and all that could’ve been if the both of them were able to survive).

Tubbo had woken up, crying. When Techno came to comfort Tubbo, rushing into the room with worried eyes and shaky hands, Schlatt didn’t miss the words that left Tubbo’s mouth 

(“Dad, we ran out of time.”  
“I don’t-I don’t know what you mean.”  
Tubbo’s body shook as another wave of tears came over him, “We lost our chance.”)

The guilt Schlatt felt from then on when Tubbo would jolt awake from another nightmare or when he’d be kept from sleeping was suffocating. He wished he could control it so that he didn’t have to push his lingering fears and worries onto his son. He knew he could always leave, go far enough that he’d never have to see Tubbo crying because of him, but a selfish part of him made him want to stay.

So he stayed.

He stayed and watched as his boys grew their small little family, making friends in the simplest of ways (Schlatt made sure to keep an eye on those three for his kids, just in case). It was so hard to watch and to be unable to do anything for them. He had to watch silently as they grew and changed and matured.

There was so much he wanted to tell them, so many things Schlatt wanted them to know. He couldn’t though, no matter how hard he tried.

This was a special sort of hell, sitting on the sidelines as he watched his sons live without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be half the length it actually is and i honestly have no idea how i got here; i just wanted to finally introduce ghostschlatt as a concept in this fic
> 
> i broke the usual chapter naming system (choosing the name of a random song) and it feels so very wrong even though it was necessary


	9. Little Light One

Tubbo was sitting at the counter of Niki’s shop, looking over the book she gave him with mild disinterest. It’s not that he didn’t care about the book, it was just really boring. Sure, it was mostly just pictures, but that doesn’t automatically make a book about history interesting. He’d much rather be at home helping his dad in the garden or actually helping Niki out around the shop.

“Niki?”

“Yes, Tubbo?”

“Do you have any other books?”

Niki laughed as she walked over to where Tubbo was sitting, looking over his shoulder at the pages he was currently on. “What’s wrong with this book?”

“It’s boring.” Tubbo turned around to look at Niki, giving her the best puppy eyes he could. They never seemed to work on her the same way they worked on his father, but it was worth a try. Anything to be able to read something else.

She ruffled Tubbo’s hair, being mindful of his growing horns, instead of doing anything about the insufferable book sitting on the counter. “You have to learn about history somehow; it’s either this or a lecture from me and I’m not quite sure if I have the time to give one.”

“A lecture would be better,” Tubbo huffed, sinking further into the chair he was sitting in. While he was glad he was getting his education from Niki instead of an actual schoolhouse, sometimes it was less than ideal. Niki was very intelligent --she was the second smartest person Tubbo knew (the first being his father, of course)-- but it felt like she overestimated Tubbo’s intelligence sometimes. She’d speak and teach in words that Tubbo could barely process, sometimes moving so quickly that he could barely keep up. She did her best, though, and her best got Tubbo somewhere he wouldn’t be if he was taking a regular education course.

“Let’s make a deal,” Niki said, smiling as she moved to stand on the opposite side of the counter. Tubbo immediately sat up, suddenly much more interested in what Niki was saying. “If you can help me out around here, I’ll give you that lecture, got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” Tubbo was out of his chair in seconds, rushing to where Niki’s cleaning supplies were with a renewed energy. He didn’t mind having to clean Niki’s shop; he kinda actually liked cleaning.

“Who said you had to clean?”

“Wait,” Tubbo put back the broom he’d just taken out and stared at Niki, confused, “what? I usually- what?”

“You’re gonna help me decorate some of the cakes and restock some of the display cases; I’ll help walk you through it, okay? It’ll be easy.”

It really wasn’t as easy as she made it seem. Tubbo’s hands shook too much to do any of the finer details and he kept messing up whenever he attempted to ice any of the cakes. It wasn’t that fun, admittedly, but being able to laugh and eat the ruined cakes and pastries with Niki was certainly a plus. Restocking the display cases was much easier. It didn’t take much mental effort to figure out where each item should go. 

“I think, I think I’m done,” Tubbo said after giving the shelves holding the macaroons one final look over. He felt proud at the work he was able to accomplish, no matter how little it actually was. He had completely forgotten about the fact that he still had to learn about history.

“Thanks for the help,” Niki smiled, ruffling Tubbo’s hair and giggling when he pushed her hand off his head. “Time for your lecture.”

“My what?”

“Did you already forget the deal we made? You’re quite a bad businessman, Tubbo.”

When Tubbo moved to take his seat again (with far less energy than he just had) Niki disappeared into the kitchen, humming a random tune as she did. Tubbo was never one to care about history, finding it to be the least interesting subject Niki has tried to teach him.

Niki returned with two cookies and two glasses of milk. She set one of each in front of Tubbo, not offering any explanation as she pulled up a chair of her own. “For centuries, we’ve been under the rule of kings and queens. There have been families upon families that sat on the throne. This kingdom’s seen rebellions, some which succeeded and some that failed spectacularly. Right now we’re under the rule of-”

Before Niki could finish, she was cut off by a loud crash coming from right outside the shop. The panic and slight fear that painted her face was immediate. It made Tubbo shift nervously, glancing to the front door of the shop and wondering what could possibly scare Niki.

“What was that?” Tubbo asked. He received no answer as Niki stood up and approached the door to her shop carefully. Not wanting to be left alone, Tubbo followed her.

Once Niki opened the door, Tubbo could see that there were two people standing only a few feet away from the shop. The older (and taller) of the duo was looking at a few boxes that were on the floor with disappointment and frustration. It was a look that reminded Tubbo of when his dad would get a bad harvest. It was that look that made Tubbo instinctively trust the brown-haired man.

“Are you two okay?”

The pair looked up after Niki spoke, both looking like deer caught in headlights. They turned to look at each other, at the boxes, at each other again, and then back to Niki. The eldest spoke up, a friendly smile on his face, “We’re just fine, but thank you for asking.”

“Why are those boxes on the floor? Is that what made the noise?” Tubbo asked, moving from behind Niki to right next to her.

“We’re moving,” the youngest of the pair answered. He had blond hair and blue eyes, looking nothing like the man he was travelling with. It made Tubbo wonder exactly what the relationship between the two was.

Tubbo looked at the boy --who was roughly the same age as him-- with his brows furrowed. “That answered none of my questions.”

“Well, what if I don’t wanna answer them?”

“That makes you sus, uh, suspict-suspituo-su-”

“Suspicious?” Niki supplied, smiling when Tubbo quickly nodded.

“That makes you suspicious.”

“And what if we are?”

“Then that’s bad.”

“Who cares? I know I-”

“Tommy.” The brown-haired man put his hand on the shorter’s head, instantly shutting the blond up. It would be really funny, Tubbo thought, if the younger boy (Tommy, his brain added) didn’t flinch at the simple touch. “I’m sorry about him.”

Niki smiled and Tubbo recognized it as the one she used to speak to customers; not sincere but not 100% fake either. “It’s fine, no need to apologize. If you need help with those boxes of yours, Tubbo and I could help.”

The eldest looked at boxes once again before sighing, “That’d be wonderful, actually. I’m Wilbur, by the way, and this little gremlin,” he gestures to the blond who doesn’t seem to really mind the nickname, “is Tommy.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Niki said and Tubbo nodded in agreement.

“Same to you.”

Niki and Wilbur ended up doing most of the lifting when it came to the boxes, only letting Tommy and Tubbo carry the two smallest boxes. Tubbo wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation Niki and Wilbur were having, instead focusing on whatever Tommy was saying.

“Do you even live here?”

“That’s a rude question to ask, you know.”

“Don’t care.”

Tubbo rolled his eyes, adjusting the box in his arms. “I don’t live in town, but I do live very close by.”

“I think you’re being the suspicious one now.”

“No I’m not.”

“But you are!”

The conversation between the two of them continued as they got closer to the house that Wilbur had supposedly already bought. Tubbo wasn’t really used to talking to others that were his age; he knew how to talk to adults, not kids. It was weird, but it made Tubbo happy. He was sure he was giggling more than he ever has, Tommy being a lot more entertaining than he’d first assumed.

Tubbo barely realized when they finally made it, only noticing when he ran into Niki (she laughed and Tubbo only felt slightly embarrassed). The house was much like all the others in town, one story and made of a mix of spruce wood and cobblestone. It looked old and incredibly unloved. If Tubbo had to guess, no one had lived in the building in years. It was kinda sad.

Wilbur didn’t seem to care as he enthusiastically fished a key out of his pocket and opened the door. The same could be said for Tommy, who looked ecstatic at the sight of his new home. Their reactions made Tubbo feel a little (but really not that much) guilty about judging it.

The boxes were placed in the middle of what was most likely supposed to be a dining room. It was much worse on the inside than on the outside. The ceiling looked like it was close to caving in and there was moss growing in nearly every corner. Tubbo wondered how the house was even able to go that long uninhabited.

“It’s certainly seen better days,” Niki said, something apologetic to her tone. “If you need help fixing this place up, I can get Eret to help you out.”

“Eret?” Wilbur asked.

“He’s like the leader around here, but not by title.”

“Huh.”

“He’s really nice,” Tubbo added because that felt like the most important piece of information about Eret.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Wilbur took one more look around the room before fixing his focus on Niki again. “Thank you for your help, sorry if we caused any trouble.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind and I’m sure Tubbo doesn’t either.”

This was sounding an awful lot like a goodbye, so Tubbo (wanting to properly give his new friend a goodbye) turned to Tommy. “You should stop by Niki’s shop again.”

“Why?” It looked like Tommy knew why and Tubbo didn’t know if he was annoyed that the blond was acting like he didn’t (he wasn’t, at least not seriously).

“So that we can hang out.”

“Hang out?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Probably.”

Tubbo narrowed his eyes at Tommy, even as the blond burst into laughter. It was awfully loud, but Tubbo didn’t mind. It was a good laugh; it was unrestrained and filled with pure happiness. It’d be hard to hate it.

“You suck.”

Tommy laughed again and, this time, Tubbo joined in. 

He was definitely looking forward to seeing Tommy again.

(Tubbo went home that afternoon and immediately told Techno all about Tommy, forgetting to ever mention Wilbur.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tubbo and tommy are around 10 at this point; im not very good with ages
> 
> lil fun fact: this was the second chapter i ever wrote for this fic and it kept getting pushed back
> 
> the next chapter might take a while so sorry in advance; i'm trying to work on other projects on top of this


	10. New Constellations

Tubbo ended up spending much more time with Tommy after their first meeting, much to his delight. Most days, Niki would end up watching over the both of them as both Wilbur and Techno busied themselves with their work.

When Niki wasn’t trying to teach them anything, the two of them spent most of their time talking or playing (indulging in games of pretend where they were heroes or monsters or in the nether). They got along quickly, connecting like they’d known each other for much longer than they actually did. For Tubbo, it was because he’d never spoken to any of his peers before then. For Tommy, Tubbo just assumed it was the same thing.

It was good to finally talk to someone who could understand him the way Tommy did. Tubbo knew that his dad tried, that Niki did too, but they were never on the exact wavelength. He didn’t have to explain what he meant as much. Tommy was able to follow his line of reasoning easily.

Tubbo made sure to tell his dad all about Tommy whenever he had the chance, always coming home with something interesting that he did that day. He knew it made his dad happy, there was always a smile plastered on his face, the same one he wore when he was proud of Tubbo.

His father had met Tommy a total of two times and both times Tommy had been characteristically annoying about it. Both times were when he’d stop by Niki’s shop to pick Tubbo up. The first time, Tommy at least attempted to be respectful (Tubbo had told him an awful lot about his dad and, well, he _really_ looked up to his father). The second time, Tommy was back to talking to Techno the same way he spoke to Wilbur. Tubbo knew his dad didn’t really mind. Honestly, he probably found it more entertaining than annoying.

Tubbo mentioned Wilbur only three times to his father. Each time, his dad would freeze up and his eyes would lose all warmth. It was the same look he had when Tubbo told him about the mask. He stopped saying Wilbur’s name and resorted to calling him Tommy’s brother (the look in his dad’s eyes worried him and he’d give anything to never see it again).

It seemed like Tommy had the same issue with Wilbur.

“He just closes off whenever I say Techno’s name. That’s weird, right?” Tommy was sitting up in the branches of a tree not too far from Niki’s shop, back against the trunk and eyes looking towards the sky. Tubbo refused to climb up with him, preferring to sit on the grass below.

“Dad does the same thing when I talk about Wilbur, so probably not,” Tubbo replied. He didn’t want Tommy to think it was weird, didn’t want to make Tommy worry about Wilbur the same way he worried about his dad.

“You think they knew each other?”

“Maybe.”

Tommy hopped down from the tree, startling Tubbo enough for him to jump. Tommy paid him no mind (which was one of the most out-of-character thing Tubbo’d ever seen him do). “What if they were rivals? You said Techno used to be a fighter, yeah?”

“Well, I think so.”

“What if they used to fight? Hated each other’s guts. And they hate that we’re friends, but they can’t say anything or else we’ll know about their secret past!” Tommy was pacing around, hands moving as he spoke and a big grin on his face.

“Doesn’t Wilbur say he’s a pacifist?”

“Could be a lie.”

“He doesn’t seem like the lying type.”

The joy and excitement that was clear on Tommy’s face drops for a second and Tubbo’s scared that he messed up. He wanted to apologize, to quickly pull back the words he said, but he didn't because Tommy’s back to how he was before, this time his eyes were dimmer and his smile seemed a bit more forced. “Anyone can lie, Tubbo.”

“I guess you’re right.” Tubbo doesn’t ask what happened, not wanting to upset Tommy any more. 

“I know I’m right.”

“At least you’re confident.”

“Of course I- wait. Was that an insult?”

Tubbo laughed and Tommy, who’d given him a fake glare, was trying his best to not laugh either (appearances and all that). “Why would I insult you?”

“Because you’re evil,” Tommy said, finally dropping the glare and laughing along with Tubbo. His smile was more genuine now and the energy in his eyes was back in full. A small victory to Tubbo.

“Me? Evil? Not possible.”

“Definitely possible.”

And the day passed much like it always did, full of dumb jokes and simple games. Tommy never looked that upset again and Tubbo did his best to keep it that way. Up until the moment Wilbur stopped by, Tubbo spent his time making sure Tommy was in a good mood. It hurt to watch Tommy’s face fall when he left Niki’s shop.

=+=

Techno woke up to Tubbo jumping onto his bed, chanting “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” His son sounded so excited, but why did he have to be so full of energy this early? He let his complaints sit in the back of his mind as he opened his eyes to be met with Tubbo’s bright smile and equally as bright eyes.

“I’m up, I’m up.”

“Good!” Tubbo moved off Techno’s bed and opened his closet, pulling out some of Techno’s clothes. “You have to get ready so we can go into town. We’ve got plans!”

“Who is we?”

“You’ll find out soon, now get dressed!” Tubbo was out of the room before Techno had the chance to even try and comprehend what had just happened. The sound of Tubbo’s footsteps headed downstairs and the boy’s off-key singing was enough to get Techno to sit up. He couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face as he saw the clothes his son laid out; he might’ve had more of an eye for style than Techno did.

When Techno was done, he didn’t waste much time walking downstairs. He was met with the sight of Tubbo attempting to make breakfast, bread and an assortment of different ingredients spread out among the counters. His son was laser focused as he sliced the loaf of bread in front of him.

“Do you need any help?”

Tubbo glanced at Techno before looking right back down at the bread. “No thank you. I know what I’m doing.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I do, Niki taught me.”

“Well, if Niki taught you then I can’t complain, can I?”

“Now you get it.”

Techno huffed a laugh, leaning back against a counter as Tubbo continued. “Want me to do anything?”

“Nope! This is a one man job. Go, uh, do whatever you do and come back later.”

Techno did as Tubbo asked (more like demanded) and busied himself with cleaning around the house. It was hard to ignore the noises coming from the kitchen and even harder to keep himself from wondering what exactly it was that Tubbo had planned. It was Tubbo, it couldn’t have been that bad. Hopefully.

Tubbo ended up calling him to the kitchen and giving him a sandwich, smiling when he urged Techno to take a bite. It may have been just a sandwich (something so simple and so easy to make), but Techno couldn’t help himself from being proud of his son. Tubbo had always been nervous when it came to preparing food on his own, never quite sure about what he was doing or what he should be doing. To know he overcame that made Techno extremely happy for Tubbo.

The second he’d finished eating, Tubbo was pulling Techno towards the front door with an excited sort of hurry. “We need to get going, no time to waste!”

“Are you going to tell me your plans now?”

“No, you need to find out in the moment.”

Tubbo held onto Techno’s hand and headed towards the town, clearly holding himself back from revealing anything. He’d start a sentence, realize what he was saying, and then immediately cut himself off. When Techno questioned him about it, Tubbo would immediately deny that it happened.

Techno’s never seen Tubbo this dedicated to keeping a secret (not even when it came to Eret’s surprise party a year ago; Tubbo had caved and told Eret after very little persuasion).

When the town square finally came into view, Tubbo loosened his hold on Techno’s hand and slowed down. His son said nothing, looking around at the fairly crowded space. Techno looked around as well despite not knowing exactly what he was looking for. Maybe he’d planned something with Karl or Eret or Niki or maybe even that Tommy kid.

There was a man not too far from where Techno stood that caught his attention (and not exactly in a good way). He was much taller than the people around him, sticking out in a way that reminded Techno of trips to cities and getting lost. The man’s hair was a deep shade of brown which wouldn’t have been strange if it weren’t for the glowing black strands that were clearly visible.

Techno was sure he was losing it if he thought a random man in town was Wilbur of all people. He needed to get some sleep.

“Tommy!” Tubbo called out and Techno jumped. He briefly forgot that Tubbo was with him. Techno followed his son’s gaze to find him looking right next to where the man was, just lower. Tommy was waving right back at Tubbo, slightly tugging on the shirt of the man standing next to him.

A mix of panic and hope stirred in Techno’s gut. He was too afraid to move or to say anything.

The man turned and that was all the confirmation Techno needed.

He was staring down a pair of unforgettable purple eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i already have the next chapter written (which im very excited about), so i'll probably be posting it tomorrow or the day after
> 
> i drew [wilbur](https://bit.ly/3n8F8pS) from this au if you wanna go check it out


	11. Landslide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw// mentions of death

Techno didn’t worry, ok? That’s just not a thing he would do.

So what if Wilbur hadn’t been home in weeks and no one in town had even heard from him? Techno wasn’t worrying because he doesn’t do that. Sure, he may be losing sleep and hasn’t had the motivation to eat, but that’s not because he was worried (because he wasn’t).

Wilbur was capable and reasonable. He wouldn’t just up and disappear without telling anyone, Techno knew that. There had to have been a reason why he never sent any letters or tried for any sort of contact. Wilbur wouldn’t leave Schlatt, would he? ( ~~Would he leave Techno?~~ ) He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Could he?

Techno wanted to believe that he couldn’t, he really did, but it got so much harder with every day that passed without Wilbur home. Nothing felt the same anymore, not without his brother. Wilbur wasn’t there to play on his guitar until the early hours of the morning, the soft melodies that used to carry Techno to sleep gone. Wilbur wasn’t there to track mud into the home, his yells of “I’ll clean it later!” going missing along with him. Wilbur wasn’t there to teleport next to Techno when he could sense he was stressed, no more dumb jokes to take his mind off things.

But Techno wasn’t worried. He was so sure that Wilbur would come home one day and he’d apologize for being gone for so long and Techno would be mad for awhile but he’d forgive him (because he could never be mad at Wilbur, not really) and Wilbur would explain everything to him and Schlatt and then finally things could go back to normal.

Schlatt said he wasn’t worried, he swore up and down that he knew things would be fine. It was the biggest lie Techno’d ever heard. Schlatt spoke more through actions than words and, while his words may have seemed calm, there was an edge to all his actions that let Techno know that, yes, he was worried.

It was okay, though, because it had to be and if it had to be then it was.

(“Schlatt, do you think he hates us?” His voice was hoarse and so very worn down.  
Silence.  
“Could he have d-”  
“Maybe.”  
Neither of them slept that night.)

Time kept passing and Wilbur still hadn’t come home. Time kept passing and Techno was fine with saying he was worried (it was a thing he did now because he didn’t know what else to do). Time kept passing and Schlatt searched anywhere he could for Wilbur. Time kept passing and no traces of the brunet could be found. Time kept passing even if Techno pleaded and cried and begged for it to _stop_.

It’d been nearly three months since the last time Techno saw Wilbur (he was terrified of forgetting what he looked like). Autumn was setting in and it didn’t feel the same without Wilbur there to comment on the beauty of the leaves or to complain about the colder nights.

When one of those dreadful autumn days brought with it a knock on the front door, Techno took no time in rushing to answer.

There was a slight hope that he’d open the door and be met with purple eyes and a warm smile, to see his dumb brother and forget all of the stress and all of the worry that had plagued him in Wilbur’s absence. He wanted it to be Wilbur. He’d settle for a letter or a package from him, anything that would let Techno know that he was still alive.

He opened the door and his heart immediately dropped. No Wilbur. Techno looked down, expecting nothing to be there. But there wasn’t nothing.

Oh Gods, it definitely wasn’t nothing.

Sitting there on the front porch was a folded yellow sweater that Techno knew all too well with a letter on top of it. There was no hesitation when he grabbed both items, quickly bringing them inside after taking a glance outside.

There was a distinct feeling of dread building in Techno’s stomach as he carefully unfolded the sweater. The more he went, the more cuts and tears and _blood stains_ were revealed. It made his stomach turn, the dread mixing with fear to make Techno feel sick. He refused to believe it was Wilbur’s sweater, refused to think that the dried blood could’ve belonged to his brother. It could be a coincidence or a mistake or something (please let it be anything else).

It wasn’t. It wasn’t and Techno wished it was. The sweater had remnants of Techno’s bad attempts to patch it up over the years, off-colored thread and fabric littering the arms of the garment. It had all the stupid little quirks that made it undeniably Wilbur’s.

Techno’s head felt full of static as he tried to rationalize this. He tried, he really did, but his mind kept conjuring images of a dead Wilbur. Every scenario got worse and worse, each more horrific than the one before it.

He turned his attention to the letter, desperately trying to ignore the emotions welling up. Maybe it’d offer an explanation, one that didn’t leave Wilbur out of his life forever.

The paper looked pristine and the words were written with the utmost precision, each curve and stroke practically perfect. The beauty of the letter heavily contrasted the message it sent.

_‘You killed our brother so we killed yours <3 Good luck being an only child xo’_

It was simple and straight to the point, it left Techno reeling. Fourteen simple words turning his world upside-down. The static is replaced by something empty, leaving him incapable of thinking about anything except for the things in front of him.

Because Wilbur was _dead_.

Wilbur was dead because of _him_.

He took a job he shouldn’t have and now his brother is fucking dead. The precautions he took to keep himself and his family safe were a failure. 

The situation was fully setting in and no amount of skepticism was able to keep Techno from breaking down. Wilbur hadn’t just disappeared, he wasn’t taking a way too long trip. Wilbur was dead.

He was crying before he could even try to stop them, falling onto the sweater which Techno pressed his face into. If he closed his eyes and ignored the smell of smoke hanging onto the fabric, Techno could pretend that it was Wilbur. He could pretend, for just a second, that he was still alive. It was an attempt for comfort as he silently sobbed, mourning for his brother and so very angry (angry at himself, angry at whoever killed him).

The cold of the kitchen floor does little to ground him, barely keeping him from losing himself in memories and an assortment of ‘what if’s. Any efforts to stop were fruitless because Wilbur was dead. He was _dead_. He kept repeating it to himself, each reminder bringing Techno more and more sorrow. Wilbur had plans for the future, plans to go farther with his music and to do something with it. Wilbur had a future, one that was hopeful and prosperous. He couldn’t get that future. He’d lost that future because of a mistake (could it be called a mistake? He knew what he was doing every time he killed) Techno made.

Wilbur was gone and so was the light and joy that he carried with him. His smile that used to make Techno feel so safe and assured only existed in memories. His laugh which managed to bring a special sort of levity to any situation would never be heard again. His songs would never be played again, the beauty of each one forever lost. The distinct smell of magic that Techno used to hate would never come back.

Techno let Wilbur die. Techno let Wilbur die and broke his promise.


	12. Just Take My Wallet

The second they made eye contact, Wilbur was turning away and walking off quickly. Techno barely had any time to process that, yes, that was Wilbur. A living, breathing Wilbur. He felt like he’d seen a ghost and if his brother hadn’t been pulling Tommy away with him, Techno would’ve assumed he’d finally lost it.

Techno stood absolutely still as he watched Tommy try and pull his wrist out of Wilbur’s grip, a panicked look taking place in his just joyful eyes. The blond was saying something and Techno couldn’t tell what. All he knew was that Wilbur ignored every word and moved away faster.

None of this felt real to Techno. Wilbur was alive. Theories were swimming in Techno’s mind, each and every one barely registering. Could Wilbur have staged his own death? That thought brought Techno more questions than answers. And with far too many conflicting emotions swimming in his chest, Techno only wanted answers. He didn’t need anymore ‘maybe’s or ‘could be’s. He needed something definitive.

“Dad?” Tubbo’s voice was tentative and nearly silent, a whisper that went unnoticed by Techno as he began to try and follow where Wilbur had gone. Because, fuck, Wilbur couldn't just show up alive after over a decade of Techno being so sure he was dead. “Dad!”

Techno stopped and looked down at Tubbo, who looked so concerned and worried. The guilt Techno felt was almost immediate, barely being able to distract him from the overwhelming relief and shock and worry and anger. “Uh, yes Tubbo?”

“What’s going on?”

“You don’t need to worry yourself over this, okay? I just-I just need to talk to Wilbur really quick and then everything will be fine.”

“But why do you need to talk to Wilbur?”

And Techno’s throat closed up because explaining it was too much, way too much for Techno. He couldn’t tell Tubbo, couldn’t explain to Tubbo without feeling ashamed and without feeling like a bad father. “There’s just some things we need to discuss.”

Tubbo didn’t move, still looking at Techno with inquisitive and unyielding eyes. It felt like he was staring right at Minx as she stared up at him, urging him to trust her. The similarities didn’t make this any easier

“He’s, well, he’s my brother. Not biologically or legally, but my brother nonetheless.”

“You said you didn’t have any family. Did you-did you l-”

“To be fair, I didn’t know he was- Tubbo, I thought he was dead. I’ll explain later, okay?”

For the first time, Techno was unable to tell how Tubbo was feeling. “You really want to talk to Wilbur?”

“I do.”

“Is it going to hurt you?”

“Probably.”

“Is it going to hurt Tommy?”

“I don’t know.”

The unreadable look in Tubbo’s eyes was replaced by uncertainty as he thought over Techno’s words. “And you _need_ to talk to him?”

“Yeah, I do, I really do.”

Tubbo shifted and grabbed Techno’s hand. He wordlessly began to lead Techno in the way Wilbur had gone. It didn’t take much to guess where Tubbo was taking him. “You won’t-you won’t get mad at him, right?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Will he get mad at you?”

Techno knows the answer just from the way Wilbur had reacted. “Probably.”

The rest of the walk was quiet. Techno took advantage of the silence to try and sort his thoughts. He needed to avoid showing too much emotion (not for himself or for Wilbur, but for Tubbo). He also needed to figure out what exactly to say to Wilbur; there had to be some sort of acceptable way to handle the situation.  
Tubbo stopped in front of a birch door and turned to look at Techno, still holding onto his hand. “Don’t be mean.”

“I won’t.”

Then Tubbo knocked. Techno’s heart was in his throat, beating too fast and threatening to throw him into a panic. But he was fine. He was fine and he wouldn’t panic. He needed to stay calm and level-headed, if he were any other way this conversation would go nowhere.

There was no answer. Tubbo turned to look at Techno before knocking once more.

Tommy was the one who opened the door, eyes red and puffy. When he saw Tubbo, he immediately hugged the smaller boy; Tubbo didn’t hesitate to return the hug. With his face still pressed into Tubbo’s shoulder, Tommy mumbled, “Wilbur’s in his room.”

The house was old, that much Techno could tell. It reminded him of his and Tubbo’s home when he’d first bought it, broken and devoid of any character. There were a few personal belongings around, but it felt more like a hotel than a home.

Techno didn’t know how he was expected to find Wilbur’s room in a house he knew nothing about, but he guessed it couldn’t be too hard. Past the kitchen was a hallway with only three doors. One of them had to be for Wilbur’s room, right?

The first door Techno opened led to Wilbur. He was pacing around, mumbling things under his breath. It was something Techno only saw him do when he was stressed, when he couldn’t let his thoughts sit in his head.

The sight, just barely familiar, made Techno momentarily forget the slight anger he felt towards Wilbur and it gave him just enough confidence to say something.

“Wilbur-”

Wilbur turned to look at Techno and his eyes widened in something Techno was sure was panic. The relief at being able to just see Wilbur was short-lived as he had to see the fear that took home in those usually warm eyes. 

“Get out.” Wilbur’s words were clipped and full of an emotion Techno didn’t know.

“Can you please just-”

“Get out of my house.”

Techno fumbled, trying to find a way to salvage this because things were clearly going south. He’d walked into this with much more optimism than he should’ve had. “I thought you were-”

“I don’t need you to put Tommy or I in danger, okay? Leave, Techno.”

“I really don’t understand what’s-”

“And you don’t need to. Just take Tubbo and go back to Schlatt and just leave me and Tommy alone.” Wilbur’s words felt like poison, something harmful in the way he spit them out (like they hurt him just to say). Techno hated it.

“Schlatt’s dead.”

And the anger and fear on Wilbur’s face fell away, replaced with a sadness deeper than Techno’s ever seen on his face. Techno understood it because, well, he’d gone through the same thing.

“What?”

“He died a few months after Tubbo was born.”

“He-how?”

“The same way I thought you did.”

Those words made Wilbur close up again and he turned away from Techno, looking at nothing but a blank wall. “Even more reason for you to get out of here.”

“Please, Wilbur, I just wanna know what happened. We were brothers, I just-I want you back.”

“And what if I don’t want you back?”

Techno couldn’t handle it, he knew he couldn’t. He had just found out Wilbur was alive and the thought of letting him go, of losing him once more, hurt more than Techno could ever admit. Knowing that Wilbur lived in town, but not being able to visit him or to see him would be too much. It’d be unbearable.

“Then-well, that’s-I guess that’s fine. Just explain how you’re still alive.”

“If I explain, will you leave?”

“Yeah, I’ll be-I’ll be gone.”

“Someone took me, said you killed someone they loved and they would return the favor. Didn’t have time to ask what was going on before they splashed a harming potion and started-they started torturing me til I lost too much blood.”

“Then how are you still-”

“They thought I was dead too soon, buried me. Woke up later and someone had to dig me out. Now get out.”

There was so much Techno wanted to ask, so much that he needed to know. It’d been years of not knowing, years of guilt and confusion, and he just wanted to understand everything down to its last detail. But he couldn’t ask.

Wilbur clearly didn’t want to talk about it. The few pieces of information he did share were forced out. It didn’t take much to know why he didn’t want to talk about it. No matter how much Techno wanted to know, he didn’t want to see Wilbur in any more pain. Even though he was frustrated and so very lost, he’d always cared about Wilbur more than himself.

“Will you ever want to-”

“I don’t know. Just go.”

Techno was nearly out the door before remembering there were two things he felt that Wilbur needed to know even if he wanted nothing to do with him ever again. “Just so you know, I gave up being a mercenary years ago after-after Tubbo was born. Tubbo’s not my kid, he was Schlatt’s.”

And then he was walking towards the front door, his eyes focused on the floor and his mind somewhere else entirely.

Tubbo was still hugging Tommy, still providing support for his friend. He looked up when he heard Techno approach, whispering something to Tommy and letting him go. The blond still looked distressed, clearly not wanting Tubbo to leave him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Tommy.”

“Okay.”

Techno left the house with Tubbo’s hand in his, the presence of his son enough to soothe his clouded mind and jumbled thoughts. “Did you talk to Wilbur?”

“Yes, I did, but he didn’t want to talk to me.”

“If he’s your brother, does that make him my uncle? That would make Tommy my uncle as well! Oh Gods, I can’t let him know that, he’d never let me live it down!”

Talking to Tubbo as they walked home provided a temporary distraction, a small escape from the reality that Techno was unfortunately faced with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter's going to be happier, i swear


	13. Talk You Down

“Are you okay?” Karl asked the second Techno opened the door, forgetting about greetings and formalities.

“Um, yes?”

Techno looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep, dark bags under his eyes and his skin worryingly pale. He usually was well-kept, his clothing was always neat and his hair was always perfect, but the man in front of Karl was nothing like that. The best way to describe Techno would be disheveled; his clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed and it looked like a comb hadn't touched his hair in days. It was worrying more than anything else.

“Are you sure? Niki said you’ve been acting weird.”

“Well, it’s just-”

“Tubbo agreed with her.”

Techno didn’t respond and Karl wanted to hug him instinctively (because that’s really the only way he knew how to comfort people). He didn’t, though, and waited to see if Techno would say anything at all.

But Techno said nothing, no matter how much awkward silence passed. Guess it was up to Karl to carry this conversation. 

“You know you don’t have to be okay. If you’re sad or angry or whatever, that’s normal. Feelings are normal.” The only answer Karl got was a nod. “Can I come in? I forced Niki to teach me how to bake pie for this. I think she wanted to kill me. Sure did push her past the limit.”

The tired smile that creeped across Techno’s lips as he opened the door did a lot to assure Karl that he was doing something right. Thankfully, the house looked like it was still being taken care of. Techno still had the motivation to clean and that had to mean something, Karl was sure of it.

“So I brought three pies. One’s apple (grown by yours truly), one’s pecan, and the last one is strawberry. I think they all turned out just fine; didn’t get the chance to taste them and check if they’re edible.” Karl had walked into the kitchen, placing the three boxes he carried with him on one of the counters.

Techno trailed behind Karl, a lot more awkward than Karl ever remembered him being. Again, very worrying. “For all I know, this is just an elaborate attempt to poison me.”

“And what if it is?”

“It’d be unfortunate for you because I’m immune to all poisons.”

Karl barked out a laugh as he opened the box with the strawberry pie, carefully taking the pastry out. “No way.”

“It’s the pig in me.”

“You’re lying.” Techno passed Karl a knife and two plates, moving to grab forks as Karl cut into the pie. The older man stood close by, watching the pie with interest (which made Karl smile when he noticed; he spent so long making sure these pies were presentable and it was nice to know it paid off).

“You’ll have to poison me to find out.” Karl plated the slices he’d cut, grimacing slightly at the slight mess he made of both slices. Techno didn’t really seem to mind. He took the plate without any hesitation. “Is this the strawberry?”

“It is!”

They both took a seat at the dining table and Karl sank into the chair; the walk from his farm to Techno’s was a lot farther than he remembered it was. Techno didn’t think twice before eating his slice of pie.

“Are you okay?”

Techno paused and looked at Karl. Karl could point out the exact moment his eyes lost their brightness, the deep red losing their vibrancy in less than a second. It made Karl feel just the smallest bit guilty even though he knew this was necessary. Techno wouldn’t talk about anything if he wasn’t pushed to, almost everyone that knew the man was aware of that.

“You already asked me that.”

“Yeah, but you lied. So I’m asking again for an honest answer.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I care about you and I wanna know what’s bothering you. You’re my friend, Techno, and I wanna see you happy. Everyone does.”

Karl was never good at reading faces, always finding it difficult to understand what all the minute details on people’s faces meant, but it was almost too easy to notice how upset Techno was. It was written all over his face, from the furrow of his brow to the obvious downturn of his lips. His plate was forgotten, pushed to the middle of the table.

“I’m, well, I’m not doing-” Techno started talking, cutting himself off almost immediately with a cough. Didn’t take much to notice that he wasn’t comfortably saying any of this and Karl wished he knew what to do in this situation. Maybe he should’ve let Eret do this, he was always better with words and he’d-

No, nope, Karl was not falling down this train of thought. If he wanted to show that he cared then he needed to do it himself. The words would come to him eventually (probably. maybe. hopefully).

“Things aren’t, they’re not okay right now.”

“And why’s that?”

“Something, uh, something happened.”

This was going to take a while, wasn’t it? Good thing Karl was patient.

“What happened?”

Techno looked at Karl, something pleading to his face. “I talked to Wilbur.”

Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur. The name was familiar, but Karl couldn’t picture a person to go with it. He had to be someone in town, right?

“Oh! He’s new, isn’t he? I think I bumped into him at Niki’s! Do you know him?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“What do you mean by did?”

“I-I haven’t-well, I thought he was-and then he-” On a normal day, Karl would poke fun at Techno’s stuttering, but the unsure way in which the older man spoke made Karl’s heart ache. “I haven’t seen him in years and I, uh, I don’t-he’s not the same person and I-I’m, well, neither am I, yknow?”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m guessing the change wasn’t good?”

“I’m not-I don’t really, uh, know yet. All I know is that he’s-Gods, he hates me.”

Karl nodded, taking the information in like it was incredibly precious. There was a puzzle trying to sort itself out in his head. A very confusing misshapen puzzle, but a puzzle nonetheless. “I’m sure he doesn’t _hate_ you.”

“No, no, I’m-I am sure. He almost-” Techno looked like he was about to panic, his shoulders shaking and his hands holding the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip. Karl could hear his breathing from his side of the table, each one short and clearly shallow. “Karl, I was-he nearly-please, I just-”

Karl was moving to sit closer to Techno almost immediately. The first thought he had was to pull him into a hug or to touch his shoulder or to do anything tactile, really, but he had no clue how Techno would react. So he sat close enough that Techno would know he was there yet not close enough to be too much.

“Hey, Techno, I need you to take a few deep breaths, ok? Gotta get some more air to your body so it knows that you’re alive and not in danger. It may not seem like that right now, but you’re safe.” Karl, as carefully as he could, removed one of Techno’s hands from the table. “You have to take a deep breath in through your nose for six seconds.”

As Techno followed Karl’s instructions, Karl removed his other hand. He took both of his hands and held them (Techno didn’t mind so he assumed it was okay with the older man, assumed that he didn’t mind). “Breathe out through your mouth for six more seconds.”

The simple instructions were ones Karl remembered from his childhood. It was what his mother told him to do whenever he got scared or overwhelmed. It always worked to calm him down, so he thought it’d work for Techno, too.

“Breathe in.” Techno squeezed Karl’s hands and Karl squeezed his right back, muttering instructions and numbers under his breath. “Breathe out.” He doesn’t know how long they stay there or how long it takes for Techno’s breath to start evening out again. He didn’t move his hands away from Karl’s.

“I was trying to say that-”

“You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s-I do want to tell you, though.”

“Oh, cool.”

Techno laughed shakily. “Cool? Really?”

Karl found himself giggling along with Techno. “Yes, really! It is cool, just so you know, so it’s a fair response.”

“Whatever you say.”

Silence fell among the two again. Techno was looking at a spot on the floor, eyes laser focused. Karl didn’t say anything no matter how much the prolonged silence bothered him. Saying anything might as well mess up whatever thought process Techno was going on.

“He almost, _fuck_ , he almost died because of me.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, uh, there’s just so much to it and I just can’t sometimes and knowing that-that Wil’s here is so-it’s too much.”

“How were you at fault though?”

Techno looked at Karl, really looked at him. Karl felt like he was being examined, like every minute move he made would be noticed. It was very unsettling and Karl shifted in his seat.

Techno must’ve found whatever the hell he was looking for in Karl because his gaze returned to the floor.

“I was a mercenary.”

Well. That wasn’t much of an explanation, was it?

Karl thought back on some odd things he’d noticed about Techno, like all the very clearly not accidentally acquired scars and his ability to sneak up on anyone. It made sense, kind of. His reaction (or lack thereof) must’ve been one that Techno wasn’t expecting. The confusion on his face was apparent and Karl could tell that he was thinking hard.

Karl did have one question, though.

“Were you the one to-”

“No!” Techno shouted, his momentary panic nearly making him fall out of his chair. “Gods no. I could never. He’s like-he was like my brother.”

“But then how-”

“Someone wanted revenge.”

This puzzle was making a lot more sense now. Still missing a lot of pieces and overall really janky, but things were beginning to fit together in Karl’s brain. “Ah yes, revenge, the ultimate motivator.”

“He doesn’t- Karl, he doesn’t want to see me again.”

“But you want to see him?”

“ _Yes_.” The slight desperation to Techno’s voice was so overwhelming, overtaking the worry that Karl had been able to pick up on earlier.

Karl leaned back in his chair, thinking. He thought of things he could do to help out Techno, ways to make sure Wilbur just _has_ to see him again.

“Listen, Techno, you want to see Wilbur, right? Patch things up, I’m guessing?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ve got a plan.”

(The pies were forgotten until Tubbo got home, surprised to see Karl sitting in the living room and talking with Techno.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanted to write some karl and techno interactions so i did. writing angst is not my strong suit and being able to write something significantly Less heavy than the past couple chapters was fantastic
> 
> i'm planning to write a oneshot based off of my original idea for this fic which i am lowkey very excited for; the original idea was definitely not as,,,,sad?
> 
> if you're reading this, i hope you have a nice day! :]


	14. Elephant in the Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw// mentioned past child abuse

Tommy had known Wilbur for a little over a year and in that time, he’d become like a brother to Tommy. He protected him and cared for him when no one else would. He’d given him a home and a place to belong, something Tommy would forever be grateful for.

Wilbur knew nearly everything about Tommy. He’d listen to anything Tommy told him, taking in the information and never forgetting it. It made Tommy more willing to trust him; he wasn’t really one to trust easily, but Wilbur made it so simple. With Wilbur, he had no doubt that he was safe and that he’d be treated fairly. There was no fear of being hit or of being starved, no matter how mad Wilbur got. Sure, sometimes Tommy would get so scared, momentarily forgetting where he was and being transported back to his parents house, but he’d get over it on his own. Wilbur didn’t need to deal with any more trouble.

While Wilbur would talk about himself, he never gave more than the bare minimum. He’d never talk about his childhood or about his family, always skipping past the subject like it burned him. It always left a sour taste in Tommy’s mouth, a bitter reminder that Wilbur didn’t trust Tommy to the same capacity.

That same taste sat in Tommy’s mouth for days after Techno had come to talk to Wilbur.

After the short amount of time Techno had been in their home, Wilbur never reacted or responded to anything normally. He spoke in short, clipped sentences and he spent nearly all of his time locked up in his room. Tommy was sure he was barely even eating; the fridge had been empty of anything other than some eggs and a couple of apples for the past few days. 

Tommy would, in turn, spend more time in Niki’s shop than at home, not wanting to run into Wilbur (he didn’t want to see his brother looking so upset and so out of it). Niki didn’t really mind, easily accommodating for the space he’d begun to take up. There’d always be an extra plate waiting for Tommy on the small dining table in Niki’s home above the shop. She never asked him any questions besides a daily “is everything okay?” It was nice to escape from the stifling atmosphere that had invaded his once peaceful home.

Things were going so well. Tommy and Wilbur finally had an actual home, even if it wasn’t the best, and they were beginning to find space for themselves in this town. It was the most optimistic Tommy had ever been, excited to get the childhood he was robbed of. For some reason, things had to start going south and it was all because of Techno.

He wasn’t sure if he should’ve been mad at Techno or not, fully wanting to blame the man for the way his brother had been acting. But if he was mad at Techno, he’d have to be mad at Tubbo because Tubbo brought him to their home. Tommy couldn’t be mad at Tubbo, not when Tubbo was the one person to instinctively know whenever he needed comfort.

It left him with no one to blame for how things were going. It would be a lot easier to deal with if he had someone to get angry at.

=+=

“Tubbo, do you know what Wilbur talked about with your dad?”

“Not really. Dad didn’t tell me about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I can ask him about it, if you want, or you can just ask Wilbur.”

Tommy thought about it and thought about it and thought about it. He could. It wouldn’t be too hard of a question to answer, right?

=+=

Instead of spending the whole day at Niki’s, Tommy decided he’d head home early. He left only a few minutes after Tubbo had gone home, much to Niki’s surprise. Before he got the chance to fully leave, Niki handed him two sandwiches, one specifically for Wilbur. Tommy didn’t spend any of his thoughts on the carefully packed sandwiches, thinking more about what he would say when he got home.

The house felt empty when he walked in and an irrational part of Tommy’s mind was fearful. What if Wilbur decided to run off and leave Tommy? What if he finally got sick of him?

He was running to open Wilbur’s door before he could fight off those fears, eyes wide and searching for any sign of his brother. The beating in his chest calmed down when he saw Wilbur huddled under the blankets of his bed, tired eyes looking at Tommy curiously.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just- I’m fine.” And he was fine because Wilbur was still there.

Wilbur sat up and Tommy had a feeling that this was the first time he’d moved all day. Even though he was clearly awake, he looked like he was asleep. It felt like he was barely registering anything that was happening.

“I do have to ask you something, though.”

“Well, Tommy, y’see, when two people love each other very much-”

“Stop!” Tommy exclaimed, ears flushed red. Wilbur laughed at him because he was a complete prick. “That is your worst bit!”

Wilbur looked more alive then than he had in days, laughter changing his face in a way Tommy missed. “I think it’s funny.”

“It isn’t. Not even a little bit.”

“What did you actually want to ask?”

And oh boy, here it was. The moment Tommy had been both dreading and anticipating. He’d had full conversations planned out in his head, questions and replies perfectly laid out. The words he’d mapped out were lost, nerves washing away everything he’d prepared.

“Well, what did you and Techno talk about? And why did it-” Tommy found himself stopping at the way Wilbur’s face dropped. He reminded Tommy less of Wilbur and more of his parents then. It was nearly enough to make him run out of the room and look for a place to hide.

“And why do you care?”

Tommy’s mouth was dry and his brain felt unanchored. There were so many alarms ringing in his head that he had to forcefully muffle, reminding himself that Wilbur wouldn’t hurt him; Tommy was able to ask questions with him. “You’ve been weird since you talked to him and I just wanted to know why.”

“I don’t get why you’d find that important.”

“Because you’re scaring me. The way you’re acting is scaring me.”

“This isn’t your business, alright?”

“But it is! You’re my brother!”

Maybe Tommy was getting too mad or maybe Wilbur wasn’t expecting any of what he was saying. Either way, the just barely recognizable hurt on Wilbur’s face made Tommy’s gut curl in guilt. Fuck, why was he even feeling guilty? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, at least he was pretty sure he didn’t.

“Well, so was Techno, so I don’t really see how that changes anything.”

Okay, Wilbur’s words hurt Tommy, much more than he first realized. It was easy to ignore the pain settling in his heart when he had something else to keep his attention.

“He was _what_?”

“Yeah! The fucker wanted to know why I was still alive, acted like we could just go back to being close as if he’s the whole damn reason I’m scarred for fucking life!” Wilbur was no longer talking to Tommy, just ranting to himself about things he knew nothing about. It made Tommy shrink into himself, the volume of Wilbur’s words doing little to ease his rising fear. “And he has the audacity to look like a kicked puppy? I did fucking nothing! I was protecting me and I was protecting you. Hell, the only reason we haven’t left yet is because I’m looking out for all the people that idiot’s close to.”

“Wilbur, you’re making no sense-”

“I should’ve given it some more time before I got us a house, then we wouldn’t have to deal with him and I could’ve lived my whole life without ever learning that Schlatt’s fucking dead-”

“Who’s Schlatt?”

“-and that Tubbo’s his fucking son! Why the fuck would he trust _Techno_ of all people to take care of his kid? Connor would’ve done something, Quackity too! He thinks he can come here and pretend that nothing’s happened? So maybe I sometimes want my older brother back but that’s not really fucking important when it’s my life on the line, now-”

Tommy was getting tired of this rambling, tired of not understanding. Of course Wilbur’s first time sharing anything about his past would be the most infuriating, incomprehensible jumble of words and names and information that Tommy’s ever had to hear. He wanted to tear his ears out. Anything that would stop the incessant rambling of a fucked up older brother.

“Wilbur!”

Tommy’s yell of his name finally got Wilbur to stop, the angry furrow to his brow just barely letting up. It was like he’d forgotten Tommy was there, too lost in whatever he was talking about to notice the kid standing just a few feet away from him.

“Oh- I, uh, I’m sorry. For that.”

“Are you going to explain? Like, any of that?” Tommy ignored the shaking in his hands (which he shoved into his pockets) and the rapid, irregular beating of his heart. For a few seconds, he had thought that this would be when Wilbur became like every other adult he’d met.

Wilbur must’ve known that Tommy was scared, must’ve noticed the fear that colored his face and made him just a few shades too pale, because his expression softened instantly. “Gods, I’m so sorry Tommy, I should’ve noticed-”

“I’ll accept your apology when you explain.”

“You don’t need to worry yourself with my problems.”

“I do because they affect me too. Explain.”

And Wilbur did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was this chapter that important to the plot? probably not, but i wanted to write from Tommy's pov so who cares
> 
> the next chapter's gonna have a lot of karl, niki, and eret in it so yay for that; it's probably going to be more plot related than this one, hopefully


	15. Like a Little Machine

It had just turned midnight and Niki was just about to fall asleep, right on the edge of consciousness, when she heard a knock from downstairs. She groaned, turning to her side and groggily opening her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t get up, whoever was knocking would get bored of waiting out there.

Then there was another set of knocks, the jumbled rhythm of the noises familiar to Niki. Her half-asleep mind wasn’t in the position to remember who knocked like that. All she wanted to do was sleep uninterrupted; was that too much to ask for? She didn’t make any effort to get out of bed, pulling the sheets around her tighter and shutting her eyes again. Sleep was calling to her, especially after the tiring day she’d had.

She could feel herself slipping back into that sleepy, hazy feeling when the knocking continued. They were much louder this time and Niki would be tempted to call them urgent. There was no break this time around, though. Whoever was at her door was not giving up.

Begrudgingly, Niki sat up. Answering the door would be the fastest way to get the annoying knocking to stop, unfortunately. She didn’t bother trying to look presentable. It was 12am, alright? Niki had the right to look like shit.

Niki didn’t bother to turn on any lamps. It probably would’ve helped, in the long run, but she knew her house well enough to not trip and die. She didn’t exactly care if she bumped into a corner or two; all she wanted to do was get to her front door, get whoever was there away, and then finally get some sleep.

She opened the front door without much thought, finally glad to be rid of the non-stop knocks. Standing on her doorstep was Karl, bundled up in too much winter gear and holding a cardboard box that was struggling to remain closed. He looked wide-awake, bouncing on the heels of his toes and eyes full of energy. Just looking at him made Niki’s exhaustion worse.

“Niki!” Karl began, voice a little too loud for Niki’s sleep-ridden ears, “I’m gonna need your help.”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes, I do, but this is more important.”

“Couldn’t you have gone to someone else?” Niki didn’t care if she sounded mean or whatever; she was tired and, believe it or not, she didn’t have the energy for whatever Karl was planning.

“For sure, but I don’t know where Eret lives so I had to come here.”

“Of course,” Niki sighed, opening the door wider for Karl. “Do you want some tea or maybe coffee? You look cold.”

Karl shook his head, giving Niki a grin which she did her best to return. “I’m actually unbearably warm. The scarf might’ve been too much.”

Niki didn’t respond, instead turning on the few oil lamps she had lying around. It was much harder to do when she was barely conscious and when her hands were refusing to listen to her, but she managed.

It was silent save for the rustling of Karl’s jacket as he set the box in his hands down. Niki wanted to leave to himself and let him do whatever he needed to, even though he seemed very serious about what he needed help with. He was a grown man, he could work it out on his own. Well, probably. Most likely.

“What’s the box for?”

“A peace offering, in case you don’t wanna help.”

“You’re bribing me?”

Karl giggled, the sound nervous and slightly forced. “I would never.”

“I’m not easily bribed, Karl. I’ve got standards.”

“It’s not a bribe!”

“You don’t need to lie to me.”

The genuinely panicked look on Karl’s face made Niki laugh. Seeing him realize that Niki was only messing with him made her laugh even more. “You’re terrible,” Karl muttered, horribly failing to hide his grin.

Niki peered into the box, catching a glimpse of probably a sweater and a couple of mason jars. Knowing Karl, they were most likely full of things he’d grown. The man took great pride in his fruits and the products he made from it, Niki wouldn’t doubt if he was certain they were bribe worthy.

“What do you need my help with?” Niki said, yawning afterwards.

“Ok, well, y’know how I said I’d check up in Techno, right? I did, okay, and I think I know what to do to help him.” Karl hesitated for a second, as if he was contemplating his thoughts properly for the first time. “We’ve gotta find a way to ‘accidentally’ have Techno and that Wilbur guy run into each other, without either of them knowing.”

“Why would that help?”

“Just trust me on this one. It’s not really my place to tell.”

“What if it backfires and makes things worse?”

Karl froze and Niki was sure his brain was buffering. The thought had probably never crossed his mind until that moment. “Then I’m screwed, but I’ve got a feeling that it won’t. My gut is never wrong.”

Niki didn’t exactly want to help Karl out with this. While she knew his heart was in the right place, she didn’t want to risk Techno feeling worse. Hell, if it involved Wilbur it might end up making things worse for him as well. They were both Niki’s friends and the thought of inadvertently hurting the both of them didn’t sit well with her.

Did the chance of making things better outweigh the chance of making things worse? Niki didn’t really know.

“I’ll help.”

Karl cheered, the noise just too loud and making Niki flinch. “All we need now is to get Eret on board and then- and then- uh, well, and then-”

“You can start scheming.”

“It’s not scheming. That makes it sound like we’re doing something evil.”

“Fine. Planning.”

“Yes, planning!”

Guess Niki wasn’t getting any sleep that night.

=+=

“I’m really sorry, Wil. I lost track of time,” Niki said, extremely apologetic. 

Tommy watched as she disappeared into her kitchen, leaving him and Wilbur alone in the front of her store. It all felt strange to Tommy; Niki wouldn’t have called his brother over if she didn’t have everything ready. It just felt out-of-character, but Wilbur didn’t really look like he noticed. The older man was more than fine with standing around, hands behind his back and eyes glancing over everything on display.

The sounds of Niki doing whatever in the kitchen (metal clanging together and the rustling of paper and plastic) were loud enough to chase away the awkward silence that hung around whenever Wilbur and Tommy were alone. Tommy wished he could be back there helping Niki, doing whatever menial task she assigned, but whatever she was preparing was apparently a surprise for him as well.

He tried to refocus on the book he was reading earlier. It was a fruitless effort, though, because Tommy could only go a few sentences before worryingly glancing up at where his brother stood.

It was a long couple of minutes before the bell on Niki’s door rang, signaling that someone had entered. Tommy glanced at the front door, his face falling when he saw Techno standing there rather awkwardly. He didn’t bother greeting the man, instead turning to look at Wilbur for his reaction. The look he was giving Techno was definitely not the nicest; it was clouded and frankly hard to read, but there was certainly no warmth to it.

Techno was still standing in the door frame, looking more terrified than a man his size should. It was definitely harder to be strictly on his brother’s side when Techno reacted like that.

“I’m just-I’m only here to pick up Tubbo,” Techno stuttered and Tommy, who was so used to him being annoyingly eloquent and straight-faced, couldn’t help but laugh. Sure, the two eerily similar glares that were thrown his way weren’t the best thing to be on the receiving side of, but it was one of the most amusing things Tommy’d witnessed in a while. Sue him.

“He’s not here, big man.”

“What do you- are you serious?”

“I’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen ‘im.”

Niki came back in at just the right time, her hands devoid of anything and looking even more apologetic then she was before. She didn’t notice Techno at first, but when she did she sent him a quick, reassuring grin. “Tubbo’s at Karl’s farm.”

“Oh thank Gods.”

Niki laughed and briefly gestured for Techno to actually properly enter her store. He wasn’t exactly too eager to come in, but he did anyways. It was just a power Niki had, apparently.

Tommy looked at Wilbur again, becoming confused at the indecisive look on his face. It was like he’d been asked to make the hardest decision of his life. He looked stupid, just staring at Techno like that. Tommy understood, to some capacity, but seriously? Wilbur could’ve very easily looked literally anywhere else and not at the one man he supposedly hated.

“Wilbur, have you met Techno yet? He’s Tubbo’s dad.” Niki’s voice seemed just a bit too fake to Tommy. The inexplicable feeling of something being off was able to make Tommy forget about worrying for his brother.

“We’ve met before.” 

“Wonderful!” Niki chirped, speaking in a way Tommy’s never heard from her, “Now that you’re here Techno, I do have something for you somewhere around here. I meant to give it to Karl when he visited you, but it just slipped my mind. I hope you don’t mind waiting a bit while I go find it.”

Techno nodded, only looking slightly nervous.

“And again, really sorry for keeping you waiting Wilbur. I underestimated how long it would take.”

“It’s fine, no need to worry.” Wilbur plastered on a fake smile. It looked about as real as Niki’s voice sounded, which felt kinda fitting to Tommy. Good to know that every adult in this damned place was acting in some way.

Niki was back to whatever the hell she was doing in seconds, forcing Tommy to spectate two of the most emotionally stupid people he’d ever met.

“Why are you here?” Wilbur asked, tone venomous. Tommy couldn’t really blame Techno for flinching when he did the same damn thing. Being around Techno took away all of the civility that Wilbur had, apparently.

“I only came to pick up Tubbo, Wil, I swear.”

“Don’t call me Wil.”

“S-sorry.”

Tommy fully understood where his brother was coming from, knew exactly why he acted the way he did towards Techno, but he couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. Gods, he looked fucking heart broken and so guilty. He didn’t look like much of a cold-hearted killer in that moment, so different from the way Wilbur had painted him.

“He told me he misses you,” Tommy said, ignoring the way Wilbur turned to him. “Not directly, but it was implied.”

There was something going on in Techno’s head and it was strange just how easy it was for Tommy to know what he was thinking. He could practically see when the switch flipped and he realized that Tommy knew.

“Tommy-”

“Are you a danger to us, Techno?”

The question made Techno pause, his red eyes pained and unfocused. Tommy could recognize that he was remembering things he didn’t want to because that’s exactly what Wilbur looked like when talking about Techno.

“Well, not anymore, no. I-I haven’t-the last time I held a sword was ten-a decade ago and I tied off any-ant loose ends.”

“Sounds like bullshit,” Wilbur huffed.

“I think he’s being honest. What’s the point in lying?”

“He’s got an intimate relationship with lying.”

“Don’t act like you’re above lying. Wouldn’t something have happened to someone if he was lying, Wil? Things here are peaceful and-”

Niki walked in and Tommy immediately stopped himself. He reasoned with himself that he was defending Techno for Tubbo. And maybe he was also doing it so Techno and Wilbur could come to some sort of peace so that maybe Wilbur’d be happier.

=+=

It was another Saturday morning and Eret was unable to catch a moment to himself. No matter where he turned, someone needed help with something and he wasn’t really one to refuse helping people.

It was such a shame, really, because today was supposed to be his turn to somehow get Techno and Wilbur in the same area. Niki said her day had turned out probably successful, which Karl took as a sign to continue with his idea. When Eret was informed that he had to find a way to get Wilbur to Techno’s stall at the farmer’s market, he was tempted to just tell Karl to do it himself. He didn’t, though, and he was now wondering if that would’ve had a better outcome.

Eret hadn’t seen Wilbur at all in the past few days when, usually, he’d occasionally catch a glimpse of the tall man. It wasn’t something Eret would usually care much about, but he sort of had to right now.

“Excuse me?”

Speak of the devil.

Eret turned around to see Wilbur standing behind him, a tentative but overall friendly smile on his face. “Yes?”

“I haven’t yet bought anything from the town farmer’s market and I wanted to know if you could help point me in the direction of the best sellers.”

Well, the luck just kept building up, didn’t it? Wilbur really just handed this one to Eret in the best way possible. “My opinions may be a bit biased, though.”  
Wilbur chuckled. It was the sort of polite laugh that you’d give a stranger and it made Eret cringe, just a little bit. Really reminded him that he and Wilbur knew practically nothing about each other. “Makes it better, doesn’t it.”

“If you don’t mind following me, I can show you some of the better sellers around here.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Fantastic.”

Eret was sure to not immediately lead Wilbur to Techno’s stall; it might’ve seemed suspicious and that would’ve defeated the whole purpose. Maybe Eret was overthinking it, but it was better to be cautious. He showed Wilbur a few of the more better quality farmer’s in town, making a few comments here and there to fill the silence. Wilbur was quick to respond, seemingly very eager to engage in conversation.

After really not too long, Eret decided he’d just circle over to where he knew Techno would be. Hopefully, Karl would also be there to help Eret and to push along any conversation.

“The next seller is more known around here for potatoes and honey which is a weird combination, but it makes sense if you know him.”

“Is that all?”

“No, but that’s what I’d say is his higher quality produce. Don’t tell him I told you that, alright?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Wilbur didn’t realize that they were approaching Techno’s stall and thankfully neither did Techno. Techno was caught up in a conversation with Karl. Once Karl noticed Eret, his smile grew just the smallest bit. It was another stroke of luck that Wilbur didn’t notice until Eret actually said something.

“Good morning, Techno.”

Wilbur immediately froze next to him, back straightening and shoulders going rigid. The easy smile on his face had fallen and gave way to a small frown. This extreme change in attitude was not something Eret was expecting.

When Techno turned, his whole demeanor changed as well. His eyebrows furrowed and his face shifted to a mix of guilt and fear, two emotions that were so out of place on the Techno that Eret knew. “Morning, Eret.”

“What? No good morning to Karl?” Karl chimed in, somewhat awkwardly.

“Good morning, Karl.”

“Good morning to you too, Eret!”

Karl was doing his best and, honestly, Eret was thankful for it (no matter how out of place it felt with whatever drama there was between Wilbur and Techno). The tiring yet light energy that usually came along with Saturdays was wiped away the second Wilbur and Techno saw each other.

“Well, what brings you to our corner of the market-”

“It’s hardly a corner.”

“You here to visit your best friends?”

Eret huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I was just showing Wilbur here the best sellers in the market.”

“And you just had to bring him to me, huh?”

Wilbur was staring at Techno while Techno was trying to look anywhere else except for him. Both of them weren’t listening to Karl nor Eret, one focused on ignoring the other and one focused on killing the other with a glare.

“Well-”

“You’re so mean to me, Eret, you know that? My apples are amazing and they don’t need your validation. We’re better off without you. Can you believe this idiot, Techno?” Techno looked to Karl, relieved to actually have something to focus on, “Like, I get that your plants are good, but he came here and gave me false hope just to break me down!”

“It’s unbelievable,” Techno said. There was a small, fond smile on his face, the type that only comes out around Karl. It was just slightly reminiscent of how he smiled with Tubbo around, something on the right side of familial.

“Truly!”

“Now’s not the time for dramatics,” Eret said, only to be met with a scandalized gasp from Karl.

“It’s always the time for dramatics,” Techno added. The delighted laugh from Karl made Eret wanna bang his head against a wall, but, like, in a good way.  
Eret looked towards Wilbur, spotting the most confused and unsure expression on his face. Gods, it was like he was given the world’s hardest equation and asked to solve it in five minutes.

“I’ve gotta- I’m going.” Wilbur didn’t give anyone time to react before he was quickly walking away. He was out of sight in only a few strides, disappearing into the crowded streets.

Eret wasn’t quite sure if this one counted as a success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, the holidays sure do make finding time to write harder
> 
> usually don't mention where the chapter titles come from but i based the name of this one off one of the album It's Like Our Little Machine by Foot Ox; it is so very good and it was all i listened to while writing this chapter
> 
> thank you to everyone who comments <3 i rlly appreciate every one, i'm just super bad at responding


	16. Making Up Words

Wilbur could feel his nerves eating at him the closer he got. His throat felt tight, restricting his breathing to the point where he was sure he was now hyperventilating. It made the thoughts racing through his mind more frantic and more incomprehensible. The lack of proper air flow was making his head light and made it that much more difficult to remain aware of what was going on around him.

His feet seemingly moved on their own because, no matter how much he wished to turn around or to stop, they kept going to their destination. Wilbur was beginning to regret leaving the house that morning when he felt his pulse in his goddamn head, beating rapidly as if he was two steps away from death. Gods, he should’ve taken Tommy along with him.

There was an uncomfortable twist to his stomach as his surroundings got more and more familiar; the memories from weeks before had already burned themselves into his head, every turn and detail replaying itself in Wilbur’s swimming mind.

It all felt like a building wave, slowly growing in magnitude the closer he got and finally crashing into him when he was standing right in front of where he decided he needed to be. Every anxious, panicked thought hit him at once as he willingly stared into familiar red eyes, filling his head with a loud and unpleasant static.

The anger that Wilbur was so used to associating with Techno was gone, the space taken by a confusing and complex jumble of emotions and thoughts that he wished he could figure out. If he could figure it all out, he could understand why he didn’t blame Techno anymore. Or maybe he could understand why he started seeing him as his brother again, not just as a forgotten part of his past.

Wilbur really did miss Techno, so goddamn much. Even when he only saw him as a careless murderer, Wilbur’d find himself wishing to hear his brother’s laugh or to see his triumphant grin. Even when he had felt so angry and hurt and betrayed, he still missed the hugs his brother would give and the warmth of his dumb cape. That yearning for the comfort he remembered got so much worse when Wilbur absolved Techno of the blame he’d put on him, forgiving him for something he never apologized for.

It took one too many nights of restless sleep and overthinking for Wilbur to come to the conclusion he had. There was no way that Techno could’ve predicted that someone would’ve sought revenge ~~(he should’ve known that killing so thoughtlessly would result in revenge, should’ve given his career choice more thinking before putting everyone’s life on the line; it was his fault and it’d always be)~~ , he had reasoned.

Walking himself to Techno’s small section of the farmer’s market was supposed to be the beginning of maybe working things out with Techno. Wilbur wanted it to be an opening to fixing shit and putting it all together like it used to be. Schlatt wouldn’t be a part of the mix anymore, but they could make it work, right? Fuck, what if Schlatt was the only thing that kept them together? Was this a mistake? He shouldn’t have come here.

Looking at Techno’s face made Wilbur’s heart drop. He used to be able to read his face like it was a book, knowing what he was feeling by just the smallest shifts. It was all just an unreadable mes, now. Wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth, something that could’ve meant shock or confusion or fear or Gods know what.

“Hello,” Wilbur greeted, the word devoid of any of the friendliness that it typically carried. “Tommy was right.”

Techno didn’t say anything, he just stared at Wilbur from where he was sitting. It felt like his words didn’t register, the older man not moving a single muscle. Wilbur’s mind was yelling at him to leave and pretend this never happened because, clearly, this wasn’t a good idea and he should’ve fucking stayed home and accepted his fate instead of trying to fix things. He fucked up coming here and opening his damned mouth. If he was still at home this wouldn’t matter and he’d never have to think about Techno anymore and then he could forget that he even existed in the first place because-

“Right about-right about what?”

Wilbur’s heard Techno speak before, had heard that usually deadpan voice try to mask the shake and shiver to his words. He’s heard his voice soften around the people in town, looking at them in a way he used to look at Wilbur ~~(but not anymore and maybe never again)~~. He’s heard Techno time and again yet somehow hearing his voice now had made him freeze up, train of thought derailed and beyond the point of saving.

“About you,” Wilbur said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady while his thoughts scrambled to sort themselves out before he could make a fool of himself. “And about me, I guess.”

“I don’t really- well, I don’t know what you’re, uh, talking about.”

A knot tied itself in Wilbur’s stomach, the slight dreadful feeling causing his lips to form an uncomfortable frown. The change in expression didn’t go unnoticed by Techno as he averted his gaze and avoided any more eye contact; he still remembered how to understand Wilbur in the minute ways family could.

“I called you a liar-”

“Not directly?”

“-and he said you were telling the truth. After some deliberation and plenty of reflection, I would like to apologize for treating you so harshly. You weren’t the one to blame and I shouldn’t have-” Wilbur couldn’t find the next words to say, his brain hitting a wall. He felt ridiculous, cutting himself off with nothing at all.

It doesn’t help that Techno was looking at him with the most infuriating, unreadable expression that Wilbur wanted to understand more than anything else. He wanted to know what he was thinking, to know why his eyebrows had furrowed and why he curled in on himself. 

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing, Wil, I-I should be blamed. Because I didn’t-I never told you what was going on and I-and I lied to you. I lied to you and endangered you. Schlatt-Schlatt, he knew. And was prepared. Just in case. You weren’t. And that’s-that’s all my fault and I am so fucking sorry that, be-because of me, you had to deal with something you should never have had to and I basically left you all alone.”

“I was alone because I chose to be. I didn’t want to go home because I was scared and mad at you. Home wasn’t an option. Don’t blame yourself for my actions.”

“But-”

“And sure, you could’ve told me. Hell, you really should’ve. Just because you didn’t doesn’t mean anything would’ve played out differently. Definitely wouldn’t have disliked you as much.”

The anxiety that had been eating up at Wilbur was slowly crawling away the more he spoke. It was cathartic, knowing that Techno was finally learning how he’d felt. He’d thought about this moment for years, each imagination of how it’d turn out changing as his view on Techno shifted. The apology on Techno’s side was a bit unexpected and Wilbur didn’t feel too guilty at assuming Techno didn’t care enough to apologize. It was good to be proven wrong, though.

Wilbur wasn’t one to ever be vulnerable in public, but, in that moment, he didn’t care. He was saying things he’d needed to, sentences that wouldn’t have left him at any other time, and he didn’t care too much about any other people. Anyone around them could deal with minding their own business and leaving Wilbur to talk with Techno.

“Maybe if you told me, I’d have come home.”

“I-I’m so-”

“It’s in the past, Techno, and I know that can’t cover everything up, but we can’t change what happened. What we can do is change what will happen. I-I missed you, no matter what. If I hated your guts, I missed you. If I never wanted to see you ever again, I still missed you. We can- Gods, Techno, we can be brothers again.”

“Are you-” Techno sounded like he was close to crying and he looked it too. He must’ve changed quite a lot more than Wilbur thought if he wasn’t trying to cover up his emotions like he used to. It stung to think that he wasn’t a part of that change. “Are you serious?”

“More than I’ve ever been.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a hard time figuring out how to go about this one; it took way too long to finally make a decision and even then idk if it was the right one bc damn is it hard to write emotional conflict
> 
> but hey! wilbur and techno are on better terms now! 
> 
> (also so much is going on in canon right now and i am so close to losing it; these damned streamers are messing with my emotions)
> 
> I hope you have a wonderful day! :]


	17. This Too Shall Pass

It was awkward, at first.

Techno didn’t know what to say or how to act, too scared that if he did the wrong thing he’d break the tentative peace he’d formed with Wilbur. Wilbur, who was sitting right across from him, holding on to the cup of tea Techno had offered him and a small, slightly forced smile on his face. His shoulders were tense and Techno could just tell he was uncomfortable in the wooden chair he was sitting in.

Inviting the younger over was done on an impulse, Techno forcing out the words before he could even try to stop himself. He hadn’t expected Wilbur to so readily accept the invitation, had mostly expected an apologetic rejection. The barely there hint of eagerness and excitement in Wilbur’s eyes had shocked Techno, much more than the conversation before had.

There was no plan for any of this, really. Techno had hoped Wilbur would take over and drive the conversation. He didn’t, though, and Techno was forced to sit in the tense silence as he desperately looked for the right words to say.

“Where’d you-where’d you get Tommy?” Techno asked, hating the way he stuttered.

Wilbur laughed. It was a small bark of laughter, one that arose more from shock than at something actually funny. For just a moment, Techno feared that he said the wrong thing and already managed to fuck everything over.

But then Wilbur was shaking his head and smiling fondly, like the thought of Tommy erased any of the fear he’d been feeling. “Sorry, it’s just- you just make it sound like I picked him up from the store or something.”

“Well, how else would I say it? You get what I mean.” And Techno, for just a second, pretends that nothing has changed and he’s sitting in the slightly too-cramped kitchen of Schlatt’s home in the early morning when both he and Wilbur really should’ve been asleep. It was easier that way, made talking to Wilbur less nerve-wracking.

“I did, I did, but I expected something more from the man who read a new book everyday,” Wilbur said, grinning just like he used to. The familiarity of it all was able to leave Techno practically giddy and far too hopeful.

“I became illiterate the second I became a farmer. All my knowledge disappeared until all I knew was plant and dig.”

“It paid off, didn’t it?” Wilbur’s smile faltered and his eyes lost the joyful spark that Techno desperately missed as if he’d just remembered something he didn’t want to. The small changes made Techno’s optimism shatter quicker than it formed, no matter how much he assured himself that he was most likely just overreacting.

“It definitely did,” Techno said softly. He briefly thought about how throwing himself into farming had unintentionally brought him Niki and Eret and Karl, hiding the fond smile that settled on his face at just the thought of them. “Got a monopoly on potatoes that everyone is too cowardly to break.”

Wilbur chuckled. “A potato monopoly? Of all the things-”

“Listen, it’s worked out so far, alright?”

“Clearly.”

Silence fell between the two of them and Techno let it, taking the time to gather and organize his thoughts. “So, uh, how’d you, y’know, meet Tommy?”

“I met him in a village I was staying at. He said he ran away from home and I gave him some money-” Wilbur cringed at the memory, like he realized that the decision he made probably wasn’t the smartest. “-and I thought I’d never see him again. He caught up to me when I was leaving and demanded I take him with me. He’s always been unnecessarily bold and, well, he was so malnourished that I had to take him with me so I could make sure he grew up alright.”

“What a-what an origin story.”

“Little prick started calling me his brother after a month and I went with it. He’s annoying, but I wouldn’t want to live in a world without him.” There was more Wilbur wanted to say, much more that he stopped himself from saying. Techno could tell in the way he bit his lip, fiddling with his hands to keep his mind temporarily off the topic. “He was all I had, for a long time, and I was all he had. I’m- Gods, you don’t know how happy I am that he and Tubbo became friends. Tommy’s never been so happy.”

“I can say the same about Tubbo.”

Wilbur looked at Techno, making direct eye contact for much longer than he had since they met again. It was unexpected and Techno shifted in his seat, just slightly uncomfortable but never looking away. “Is Tubbo really Schlatt’s kid?”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Who’s his-who’s the mother?”

There was a knot settling in Techno’s throat that he forced himself to push past. “Her name is, uh, was Minx. He met her at the town we moved to after we, um, we thought you died. They-they really loved each other, never got married though. She was excited to be a mom even if-even though she was terrified.”

“Do you mind me asking about what happened to her? You don’t need to, if it’s too much.” And maybe Wilbur could read Techno, could see the storm settling in his red eyes after the question was asked.

“It-it’s fine. She-she, uh, died a few weeks after Tubbo was born because of health complications. Potions didn’t help and golden apples didn’t do anything either. We spent a lot of-a lot of our money trying to save her.”

All Techno could think about was Minx, sick and weak in bed with a shaky, reassuring smile. He remembered seeing Schlatt crying by her bedside when she’d be asleep for days, her weak heartbeat the only thing indicative of any life. He remembered having to care for both Tubbo and Schlatt, the older man too grief-stricken to do anything. He spent weeks trying his best to be there for Schlatt, to reassure him.

Techno never wanted to think about those months ever again.

“Oh, that’s-I’m sorry, Techno, that’s terrible.”

“Tubbo looks a lot like her, sometimes. Acts a lot like her too. It’s-it’s a lot sometimes.”

Wilbur looked concerned, seconds away from attempting to comfort him. Techno was, just briefly, glad that they weren’t close enough for Wilbur to offer any actual sort of comfort. He couldn’t handle that, at least not then.

“Are you hungry? I made something before you- before you arrived,” Techno said, trying to forcefully shift the topic of conversation.

=+=

Tubbo and Tommy were pressed up against the door of Tubbo’s room, straining to hear the conversation happening in the kitchen. All that Tubbo could hear was muffled words, too quiet for him to pick out any words. Tommy didn’t have any luck, either, if the frustrated frown on his face was any indication.

Tubbo sighed and moved back from the door, lying down on the carpeted floor. “I don’t know why we have to eavesdrop on them-” Tommy took his ear off the door for the first time in minutes to finally look at Tubbo, frustration fading into slight curiosity. “-when we can just, I don’t know, hangout? You never get to come over so shouldn’t we be making the best of it?”

“Well, first off, it’s not eavesdropping if we can’t hear anything.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m just pointing out a flaw in your words.”

“Better hurry up or I’ll point out a flaw in your personality.”

“Jeez, we’re ruthless today, aren’t we?”

“For starters, I think your main issue is your-”

Tommy yelled, trying to drown out Tubbo’s words and, when that didn’t work, he put his hand over Tubbo’s mouth. The unimpressed look on Tubbo’s face should’ve been enough for Tommy to move his hand because, usually, it got the blond to give up. Not this time, though. He kept his probably not clean hand on Tubbo’s mouth as he finished what he needed to say.

“I just wanted to know if there was anything interesting going on downstairs, is all.”

He finally moved his hand and Tubbo sighed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Maybe if he just bit Tommy he wouldn’t do that again. “And you had to listen for like twenty minutes?”

“I’m a very thorough man, Tubbo.”

“Not much of a man, though.”

Tommy laid down next to Tubbo, sighing as he looked up at the ceiling. Tubbo understood why he was so worried because Tubbo was worried as well. He was just better at focusing on something else and reminding himself that his father was capable of handling anything. 

All Tubbo wanted to do was spend time with his friend, something that had been harder to do the past couple weeks. They were finally given a golden opportunity and here Tommy was throwing it away. They could be outside right now. Tubbo could be showing Tommy his bee hives or introducing him to Daisy and Buttercup or they could’ve started working on the treehouse they always wanted to. It was annoying, more than anything. Yeah, it was understandable but still very annoying.

Hell, he might have had to force Tommy out the window if he wanted to actually do anything. Huh. That could actually work.

Tubbo sat up abruptly and turned to look at Tommy, who looked back at him with an eyebrow quirked. “What’s up with you? You’re smiling all dumb and shit.”

“I’m pushing you out the window.”

“You’ve gone mad.”

“Nope!” Tubbo pulled Tommy up to his feet with him, dragging him to the cracked open window. “I just think you need to stop thinking about Wilbur for, like, an afternoon. Be your own man, y’know?”

Tommy watched with slight concern as Tubbo pushed open his window fully, moving his curtains aside. He peeked over the ledge of his window, making sure the vines growing up to it were still there because, if they weren’t, they’d have to use the door. Using the door would take away most of the fun and the excitement; it’d take away the best part of this plan!

“All you need to do is grab the vines and climb down.” Tubbo pushed Tommy closer to the open window, making the older boy stumble and nearly fall. It took him a few seconds to right himself before he turned to glare at Tubbo. The glare was met with a wide, genuine smile. “It’s a lot like a rope ladder, just a lot more real.”

“Aren’t vines slippery?”

“Only when it rains.”

“It rained yesterday.”

“We’ll be fine!”

Tubbo took the initiative and basically hopped out of his window, easily holding onto the vines. He’d done this enough times to not fear the prospect of falling; he had more than enough faith in his skills and muscle memory. Looking up, Tubbo couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of Tommy leaning out the window with a concerned and bewildered look on his face. His eyes were wide and his entire torso was outside. “Y’see? It’s easy!”

“How the fuck?” Tommy muttered under his breath, making Tubbo laugh harder from his place on the vines.

“Come on Tommy!”

He stayed where he was, watching with impatient eyes as he saw Tommy attempt to maneuver himself out the window. His movements were much more stiff and unsure than Tubbo’s which was expected. It was still entertaining to see Tommy, who so typically climbed around in the trees like it was second nature, struggle with figuring out where to put his hands in the mess of vines.

“How’d you do this so fast, dickhead?”

“With talent, something you know nothing about.”

“I have talent!”

“Then prove it.”

The challenging words were, apparently, enough to get Tommy to throw away any last bit of hesitance he had. He was moving down the wall of vines, a string of curses and insults falling from his mouth every time his foot caught or his grip slipped. He definitely was slower than Tubbo, who’d reached the ground a good minute before Tommy, but it was impressive that he’d caught on so fast.

“I hate you,” Tommy said when his feet hit the grass, turning to look at Tubbo with an annoyed yet amused glint in his blue eyes. “You know that, right?”

“I do,” Tubbo hummed, grabbing Tommy’s wrist, “But now I can show you everything!”

(Later in the afternoon, the steady conversation between Techno and Wilbur stopped as they both looked out the window, witnessing Tubbo and Tommy run past with leaves and flowers in their hair, dirt on their clothes, and smiles on their faces.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter, another day of ignoring smp canon
> 
> i worked on this between all the preparation for semester exams and it was the one thing keeping me sane
> 
> have a wonderful day/night! :]


	18. Home to Me

Eret sighed as they looked around their now crowded home. The small size of their house was one of the appeals when they’d first moved in, with just enough space for them and only them. They wanted to curse their past decisions as they moved their kettle off the stove (they hoped they’d have enough tea for everyone crammed into their living room).

The storm had seemingly come out of nowhere. The morning was beautiful, the sun sitting high in an incredibly blue cloudless sky. Many of the town’s residents were taking full of advantage of the practically perfect weather; the streets were more crowded than Eret had seen in a while and they had felt a sting of jealousy when they realized they couldn’t enjoy the day in the same way.

The joy of the day crumbled with the tell-tale call of thunder, followed immediately by fast approaching storm clouds. When the rain started, light and barely detectable, no one bat an eye. It’d pass eventually was the general assumption. But then the rain picked up its pace and intensity, crashing against the ground with an uncalled for ferocity. People had quickly hurried and rushed into their homes or into stores and restaurants, anything to escape the unexpected storm. The once crowded streets were empty in a matter of minutes.

Everyone sat haphazardly around Eret’s fireplace and making quiet conversation had knocked on their door frantically, drenched by the rain and seeking the closest source of warmth they knew. Techno and Niki had shown up first, being caught off guard by the drastic change in weather while Techno was helping Niki care for her garden. Karl arrived a few minutes later loudly complaining about the weather, utilizing his jacket as a makeshift umbrella. Wilbur was only a few seconds behind, awkward apologies falling from his mouth the second Eret saw him. They’d let all of them in without any hesitation or questions, offering them dry clothes and blankets.

Karl’s voice carried the most and as Eret moved around their kitchen preparing something for their guests, they let themself become lost in the story Karl was spinning with surprising confidence. They prepared mug upon mug of tea, grabbing the few biscuits they had lying around, and intently listened to the tales of piracy and thievery Karl was telling. Wilbur interjected occasionally, asking questions and making comments that Eret couldn’t quite hear. Niki and Techno’s quiet laughter and side conversation was just barely audible, providing a comforting backtrack to the joy of Karl’s story.

Despite the inescapable sound of rain pounding against the walls and roof, Eret felt truly in peace at that moment. It was easy to get swept up in the happiness of the afternoon with Karl’s voice clearly being carried by a smile and with the warmth radiating from Wilbur’s occasional interjections and with the infectious giggling coming from Niki layered with the deep, assuring chuckle of Techno.

Eret arranged the mugs on a tray along with the plate of biscuits they’d hastily reheated, smiling to themself as they carried it to where their friends were sat. They’re smile grew, just barely, when they noticed everyone’s eyes not-so locked on the steaming mugs of tea; Karl was the most obvious about it, stopping mid sentence to focus on what Eret had brought.

“I made us all tea.”

Karl cheered, Niki joining in with her own excited chattering. “And once again Eret’s coming in clutch!” Karl’s outburst made Wilbur laugh, a startled and high-pitched sound that took Techno’s attention, red eyes softening in something that Eret would definitely call fondness.

And wasn’t that something? Last time Eret had to be with Wilbur and Techno in the same area, their interactions were tense and Techno avoided even looking in Wilbur’s general direction. But now here he was, comfortable around Wilbur like the man had always been a part of this slightly scuffed group of people. Karl’s plan must’ve been successful, despite both Eret and Niki’s hesitation

“What does that even mean?” Eret asked, setting down the tray on the low table in the middle of the room.

Karl immediately went for one of the mugs, sighing happily at the warmth and not even flinching at the temperature. It looked like he didn’t even care for the liquid inside of the cup and, considering his preference for hot chocolate and coffee, Eret really didn’t doubt that. After Karl’s quick grab towards the tea, everyone else followed suit (though much calmer, actually taking the time to prepare the tea how they wanted it).

“It just means that you’re my saviour.”

“An angel carrying holy cups of tea,” Techno muttered, stirring the milk and honey into his tea. “Gracing us with warmth on a cold day.”

Eret took a seat at the edge of the fireplace, their couch already filled to the brim. “I am a bit of an angel, aren’t I? Well, with a face like this, I couldn’t be anything else.” They took the last cup left, adding nothing but a single clump of sugar.

“You’re awfully confident today,” Niki said, taking a quick sip before shooting Eret a playful grin. Of everyone, she looks the most ridiculous in Eret’s clothes. The blue sweater that hung loosely off her body made her look smaller than she actually was.

“Guess it comes with the weather.”

“If bad weather is what makes you flourish, I feel bad for you,” Wilbur added, laughing when Niki lightly slapped his arm. “You gotta find confidence from somewhere else.”

Karl shook his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. “This is not a place of judgement, alright? This is a nice and welcoming home and we will not have you taking advantage of-”

“Gods, go back to the theater, nerd.”

“Techno!”

“If it helps, I meant nerd endearingly. Like a pet name, or whatever.”

“It doesn’t help!”

The fire behind them gave Eret a comforting sense of warmth, though the fire couldn’t quite take over the overbearing fondness in their heart that stretched from the tips of their fingers down to their ankles; it left them with a dumb smile and a welcomed fuzziness at the edges of their mind. They were more than content with spending the next few hours here with people they knew, people that made them inexplicably happy.

=+=

It was late. So very late. Yet Karl was wide-awake, an unexplainable anxiety gripping at his mind and keeping him from falling asleep. He didn’t know where all these fears were coming from, worries plaguing him that he’d never once thought about until now. He’d been crying nonstop, mourning lost time that he was sure he still had. His room was colder than it should be, the usual ever present warmth chased away only to be replaced by something that made his breath fog up.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

He couldn’t stay here, not in his room where the anxiety and paranoia felt like it was stealing all of the air. It was too much and none of it made sense. These thoughts didn’t feel like his; they were uncomfortably tight and restricting, just on the edge of being completely and utterly unbearable.

Karl was grabbing his jacket and quickly putting on a pair of shoes before he could second guess himself. He wasn’t sure where he’d go. He’d be happy if he was anywhere besides that suffocating room.

The air outside was refreshing, clearing his mind and thankfully putting an end to the tears that felt like acid rushing down his face. Karl took in as much of the fresh air as he could, thanking the gods for the way it calmed his lungs and steadied his shaking hands.

It really shouldn’t have been as much as a surprise as it was when he found himself on Techno’s porch, looking up at the place that was basically his second home. Karl trusted Techno more than he trusted anyone else. Time and time again, he found himself snuggled up on Techno’s couch with a blanket whenever things got too much; the older man never hesitated to extend a helping hand to Karl and, well, Karl appreciated that more than anything else.

He didn’t hesitate to knock on the door, using the same melody Tubbo told him to use years ago. Karl was fine with waiting, comfortable with the knowledge that Techno would always end up opening the door.

It took two minutes for Techno to open the door, looking just barely conscious. “Everything okay, Karl?”

“Yeah, just needed out of my room for a bit, you know how it is. Can I, uh, stay the night?” Karl asked, giving Techno his most charming smile. It wasn’t as strong as it usually was, admittedly. Dealing with random bouts of anxiety and existential dread can do that to a man.

“Of course you can. Let me just get you some blankets and some-some pillows.” Karl could tell that Techno was worried, worried about why he was on his doorstep at three in the morning with shaking shoulders and tear-stained cheeks.

Karl situated himself where he usually slept on other nights like this, quietly thanking Techno when the man handed him the usual pillows and blankets (he always brought too many for Karl, something that would never stop being stupidly endearing).

“Do you wanna talk about it in the morning?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh, uh, well, goodnight Karl.”

“Goodnight Techno.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay w this one (also sorry that it's so short); i've been focusing on my art a lot more recently and that's taken up a lot more of my time than i thought it would. hopefully will have the next chapter up sooner and with more words (hopefully)
> 
> writing positive interactions is like free therapy; this gives me way more serotonin than it should
> 
> have a nice day/night! <3


	19. I Like Not Knowing

Dinner was always a peaceful affair. It was always after sunset and, at that point, his father was tired from tending to the farm, never making any conversation unless Tubbo did. Tonight wasn’t any different; Tubbo was sitting at his usual spot, his father in his own, and both were quietly eating their meal.

There was a lot on Tubbo’s mind, things that’d been bothering him for quite a while. Like how his father never really explained what happened with Wilbur. It was clear Wilbur talked about it with Tommy. Did his father not trust him enough? That just couldn’t have been possible, right? He always told him he had the utmost trust in Tubbo, never doubting anything Tubbo told him. It-it could’ve been a lie.

No, his father wouldn’t lie to him. What was he thinking?

“That’s ridiculous,” Tubbo muttered to himself, shaking his head in an attempt to properly sort his thoughts. All it did was leave him dizzy, his thoughts even more scrambled and puzzling than before.

“What’s ridiculous?”

Tubbo’s heart dropped and he looked up at his father, looking like a deer caught in headlights with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. He floundered for a bit, struggling to find an answer that wouldn’t have Tubbo questioning his relationship with his father. “You never told me why you thought Wilbur was dead.”

The change in expression on his father’s face was quick and Tubbo felt like he said the wrong thing, a pit forming itself in his stomach. The slight curiosity on his face had given way to something regretful (a look Tubbo wasn’t used to seeing).

As the silence stretched on, becoming more and more tense, Tubbo grew nervous. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to-that was dumb to bring up.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine-” He didn’t sound very fine, at least not to Tubbo. The words were forced out through clenched teeth. He clearly didn’t want to answer Tubbo’s questions, speaking more for Tubbo’s sake than for any want to breach the topic. “I was a bounty hunter, very technically, and-”

“What’s that?”

“I’d, well, I would basically just- uh, y’see, kill people for money.” Tubbo could feel his heart stop as the words registered in his mind, an awfully sick feeling taking over him. “Usually it was be-because someone hired me but sometimes I’d just- I’d um- I’d complete any open bounties.”

It was hard to take in, hard to understand. His father. Killed people. He-he admitted to it! The man who taught Tubbo all of his morals, taught him about the value of life and the tragedy of death, killed people. As a job. He routinely took the lives of people.

Gods, Tubbo wanted to throw up or cry or yell or break something.

“Y-you what?”

“Listen, Tubbo, I know it’s-”

“You killed people! Why did you- Why didn’t you- Why!”

“I wouldn’t have done it if the people weren’t bad. There was always research put into it, a quick first round done by people I trusted and a more extensive search done by me. I didn’t go around doing it for fun.”

“Just because-just because they were bad doesn’t mean you had the right to play grim reaper! You still-you still killed people! You’re a murderer!”

“It’s behind me, Tubbo, far behind-”

“I don’t-I don’t care! You never told me! You never told me anything!”

Maybe if he told him earlier, had come clean with all of it sooner, this wouldn’t feel like a betrayal. It wouldn’t feel like his heart was burning him, an intense pain he’d never felt before. It was something important that Tubbo should’ve known and yet he was never told about it.

He felt dramatic calling it a betrayal, but ultimately that’s what it was.

“You shouldn’t have to know about these things, I was trying to keep our life as peaceful as it could be and I’m- Tubbo, I’m so sorry. I was planning on telling you when you were older, but-”

Tubbo didn’t wanna be around his father, didn’t want to look him in the eyes or share space with him. He was scared (even though he knew his father would never hurt him) and angry and he couldn’t handle being at home. If he could leave, he could mentally separate the father he knew and the father he was just learning about. He could still keep his good memories and have them all remain untainted by the nausea overtaking his mind.

“Can I stay with Niki?”

“Wait, what, Tubbo, please, I-”

“I’m staying with Niki.”

Tubbo didn’t waste time getting up from the table and heading straight for the door, ignoring everything his father was saying and the clamor that faded into background noise. When he was out of the house, he immediately started running. Running from his father and the sting of betrayal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's very short and i tried adding more but it just didn't feel Right
> 
> citing chapter 4 of Blood God Technodad as the major inspiration for this one; that whole chapter/scene was what brought me to want to write this in the first place so very technically the whole fic was building up to this moment and i'm not even sure if i'm happy w it
> 
> god i hate writing emotional scenes like this idk why i keep doing it :pensive:
> 
> hope u have a nice day/night! :]


	20. Where Do You Run

Niki sat down at the edge of the bed Tubbo’d been using. It’d only been two days (or, more accurately, two nights) since the boy showed up at her doorstep, tears staining his cheeks and asking if he could stay with her. When she offered to go get Techno, he flinched at the mention of the man’s name. She didn’t have the heart to turn him away after that.

She was doing her best to make sure he was comfortable in her home, letting him take anything he needed and giving him as much space as she reasonably could. Niki’d never seen Tubbo in a state like this. The boy had never looked so upset and troubled, weighed down by something he clearly couldn’t deal with. It pained her heart to see his usually bright face so devoid of life, typically cheerful eyes closed off and blurred.

He never said much to her about what had happened, always deflecting whenever she attempted to bring it up. Tubbo’d go into rants or tangents on completely unrelated topics just to block out Niki’s voice.

“Tommy stopped by to see you,” Niki said quietly, her voice just a bit louder than a whisper. She tried to keep a smile on her face, but it was hard to as she looked at Tubbo’s curled up body hiding beneath one too many blankets. “Said he found something cool that you’d like.”

There was barely any movement from Tubbo; he made no effort to even look at Niki. “I know.”

“You do?”

“He’s loud.”

Niki’s hands shook just slightly from where they were sat in her lap, a mixture of nerves and worry keeping them from being steady. She wanted to do something or say something that could help Tubbo. She’d thought about visiting Techno and asking him about what happened, but she decided she’d rather hear it from Tubbo first. “I told him to come back in a few days. I can always tell him that something came up, if you’re not up to it.”

There was the quiet sound of shifting blankets before Tubbo shifted to stare up at the ceiling. His hair was, obviously, disheveled and Niki could tell that he’d been crying, the skin around his eyes a slightly irritated red. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I think so.”

And then Tubbo was back to staring at the wall, pulling the covers over his head. Niki didn’t need to be told to leave, easily picking up on the obvious signs in front of her. Tubbo wanted to be alone (again) and she could give him that (she didn’t want to).

It was safe to say that Niki was worried, unbelievably so.

=+=

Tubbo hadn’t been eating, at least not when anyone else was around. He’d tactically avoid Niki whenever he knew she’d made something, hiding out in his borrowed room or even darting out of her home. His stomach had been in a constant state of unrest, churning at any given moment and making any sort of food immediately unappetizing. Crackers were the only things he could handle and even then it was a 50/50 on whether or not he’d be able to keep it down.

The hunger didn’t bother him so he resolved to not care.

This sort of apathetic approach was one that Tubbo was now well accustomed to after just a week with Niki. It was easier to make himself not care rather than unpacking every complex emotion he felt or every trouble tumbling through his head. It took all the pain that sat heavy in his heart and turned it all into a numbed sting, only ever getting worse whenever he couldn’t keep up his hastily crafted charade.

It was only a week yet it felt like months to Tubbo. He spent most of his time by himself and with his thoughts which meant that he was almost always thinking about his father (which was harder than it’d ever been). The image he had of his father, the one he’d been led to believe, was shattered with just a few simple words. That feeling of being lied to, of being fooled into believing something, was worse than knowing his father had once made a living out of bloodshed (and, wow, wasn’t that a thought).

Tubbo was snapped out of his thoughts by a quick pair of footsteps and the excited shout of his name as Tommy burst through the door, grinning like everything was right in the world. His smile faltered, just barely, when his eyes settled on Tubbo, a quick flash of concern that was covered up instantly. “Tubbo, Tubbo, you won’t believe what I found. You’ve gotta come with me to see it, trust me. I hid it in my room so Wilbur wouldn’t steal it, alright, so we have to be inconspicuous and shit so he won’t know.”

“I don't know what that word means,” Tubbo said, letting himself genuinely smile at the familiar tone of Tommy’s voice. It was easier to be (or at least pretend to be) better with Tommy than it was with Niki. “Got lost in a dictionary again, big man?”

Tommy laughed, all bright and loud and brash as usual. “What d’you mean? I’m always this smart. They call me Genius Innit, actually, because I’m so smart. The smartest man in the world, actually. The king? Nothing compared to me.”

Tubbo honest to Gods giggled, getting lost in the ridiculous comfort that Tommy never failed to provide. It quickly grew into full blown laughter, the sound perfectly blending with Tommy’s own boisterous laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Tommy said, “I’m being genuine here.” The smile on his face and the laughter breaking up his words did little to prove his point, only succeeding in making Tubbo laugh more (no one needed to know that that was the whole purpose of his words).

It took a bit for Tubbo to finally calm down, mind far away from everything that was previously bothering him. All he was focused on was Tommy and every obvious attempt to cheer him up. “What’s so special that you had to hide it?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself!”

Then Tommy was pulling Tubbo out of his temporary room, shouting rushed goodbyes to Niki as he left as fast as he could manage with Tubbo clumsily following behind him. The town moved by in a blur, seemingly, as Tommy ran and gave Tubbo a quick story, messily uttered sentences falling on deaf ears as Tubbo tried to catch up. He didn’t quite care though, cherishing the smile that he could spot on Tommy’s face whenever he looked back to check if he was still there. It felt like just any other day, like nothing had happened. That meant more to Tubbo than anything else could at the moment.

=+=

“Pass me the flour.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Wilbur carefully maneuvered himself around where Niki had made herself a small station, reaching for the cupboard where he was pretty sure he kept the flour. He passed it to Niki, as she asked, and watched as she poured some into a bowl. She looked perfectly in her element, even though she was in Wilbur’s kitchen and not her own. It would never fail to absolutely impress him.

The whole reason Niki was over was to teach Wilbur to make bread for himself and Tommy (and maybe because Tommy wanted to see Tubbo) yet she was doing most of the work as Wilbur watched in slightly overexaggerated awe. She had it all down to a science, not needing a single measuring cup or spoon. The recipe she was making was completely memorized, something she must’ve made hundreds of times before now.

“So,” Wilbur said, dragging out the ‘o’ for as long as he could.

Niki looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. “So?” She mimicked the way Wilbur had said it, something that made him crack a small smile.

“Why is Tubbo staying with you?”

The question made Niki look back down at the ingredients spread out in front of her, hands fidgeting with a wooden spoon as she mulled over the best way to answer. Wilbur let her think, moving to cleanup the kitchen just the slightest bit.

She sighed and the sound felt heavy, hanging in the air and quickly dispelling the lighthearted and cozy energy that they’d been working in before. “I’m not really sure why. I think it has something to do with his father, though. An argument, maybe? Tubbo doesn’t want to talk about it, at all, and I want his story before I try to hear Techno’s.”

Wilbur placed a hand on Niki’s shoulder, relieved when he saw her relax from the action. “I’m sure Tubbo’ll open up at some point. He’s trying to solve it all on his own, right now. A very Techno move, if you ask me.”

“Like father, like son. I guess.”

The moment passed and Niki went back to baking, explaining her steps and ordering Wilbur around. They didn’t fall into the same atmosphere they had when they’d begun, Niki’s worries had transferred to Wilbur and the thoughts that came with it clouded his mind. While Niki gave vague instructions, he came to a conclusion.

“Do you think if I asked Tubbo he’d talk?”

“He barely knows you.”

“It’s easier to talk to a stranger, sometimes.”

Niki finally looked away from the dough she was kneading to level Wilbur with far too expressive eyes. She was trying to figure out what he was planning, the look something Wilbur had quickly grown used to over the past few weeks. “Yeah, sometimes.” The words had an underlying tone of suspicion to them, a warning hidden in there as well as she tilted her head just the slightest bit.

“Glad we’re in agreement.”

Niki didn’t give Wilbur a response, the bread once again taking her attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so very sorry that this took so long to get out! i just couldn't find the motivation to write, at all. i keep walking myself into emotional topics even tho i know it isn't my strong suit; it's a struggle, honestly
> 
> thank you for all the comments <3 i appreciate all of em even tho im shit at responding
> 
> have a nice day/night :]

**Author's Note:**

> The basic concept of this fic (Techno being Tubbo's dad) was taken from [Blood God TechnoDad](https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/27218755/chapters/66488563) by Eralious. If you haven't, I recommend reading their fic because it's really good.


End file.
